


Bits & Pieces

by terma_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-01
Updated: 2002-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:27:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26535100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist
Summary: Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atTER/MAand was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address onthe TER/MA collection profile.Rated R for a certain G-Man's language. Disclaimer: I don't own them but I wonder if CC has ever considered renting them out... I've got about a buck and a half and a demented cat to spare. I really hope I did this right...
Collections: TER/MA





	1. All in the Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [TER/MA](https://fanlore.org/wiki/TER/MA) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the TER/MA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/terma/profile).  
> Rated R for a certain G-Man's language. Disclaimer: I don't own them but I wonder if CC has ever considered renting them out... I've got about a buck and a half and a demented cat to spare. I really hope I did this right...

  
**All in the Hands  
by Amy B**

  
Mulder stared up into shadowed green eyes with a fatalistic sense of resignation. How many more times would he be knocked on his ass—both literally and figuratively— by this man? How many more times would he have his own gun pointed at him in the dark? Would he get another kiss this time? He hoped so with some self-destructive impulse that seemed to get stronger every year. Hell, every _day_. 

He closed his eyes on a sigh, wondering if this time he would catch a bullet or something even more disturbing. When he opened his eyes, they were inexorably drawn to the hand holding the gun. His own gun, damn it. Long blunt fingers wrapped around the Sig in a light grip as if the gun were being caressed or fondled instead of pointed with deadly accuracy at Mulder's heart. It looked oddly sensual, almost... sexual. 

Mulder muffled a gasp as he felt a stirring in his loins. Surely he couldn't be getting excited by having a gun held on him. After all, it happened on a weekly basis. But the adrenalin of the chase certainly seemed to be mutating into a much different hormonal response. 

He kept his eyes on the hand holding his weapon. The hand was not exactly elegant but more sturdy. A hand that could break a man's neck. /Or be incredibly tender on a man's—/ Mulder silenced the perverted little voice before it could make him any harder with its traitorous yapping. Unfortunately, the mental image of those long _strong_ fingers wrapped around his cock had settled into his brain and didn't seem inclined to leave. 

Oh, yeah he could tell that he would suffer for awhile as he shifted on the cold broken asphalt of the alleyway to relieve the pressing hardness in his pants. 

A voice like pure black velvet said, "Mulder, you have a problem holding on to your weapon that's gonna get you killed one day. I swear you oughta tape this gun to your hand." 

"Is today the day Krycek?" 

"Don't you get it yet? _I_ won't be the one to kill you. I may even be the one to save you." 

"Then why are you holding a gun on me?" asked Mulder as he slowly rose to his feet holding his hands out to the sides in a gesture that was not quite surrender. 

"Because I can, mostly." Krycek's smirk was barely visible in the dim light filtering in from the distant streetlights. "Why am I here at all? To tell you that you don't want to catch those guys you were chasing." 

"They have information—" 

"No, they have orders." 

"To kill me?" 

"I'm not sure but I do know they're supposed to pass along some... disinformation." The velvety voice went gently mocking as he sing-songed, "More lies for Mulder." 

"You'd know about that wouldn't you, you ratbastardmotherfuckingcocksucker?" sneered Mulder but it was from habit and defensiveness more than any real venom. 

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" 

Mulder was sure there was a faint thread of surprise in Krycek's voice, but he was quickly losing patience. He was about to snap again, then Krycek did that... that thing. That thing with his gun. He uncocked it then turned his hand over until the weapon swung harmlessly from his trigger finger. Offering it up like a gift. 

Mulder felt his face flush with the little bit of blood that hadn't rushed to his groin. He almost moaned aloud at his own perversity. The man was so unconsciously sexy that Mulder wondered how he walked down the street unmolested. 

"Take it Mulder. You know I won't shoot you," sighed Krycek pushing the gun sideways into the agent's chest. 

Mulder just stood and stared at the green-eyed demon before him and muttered, "Why?" 

"Why what?" Krycek was either maddeningly obtuse or severely irritating. How could he still be so damned fascinating? 

"Why?" Mulder shook his head and stuttered out some of the questions trying to pierce the sensual fog that seemed to have enveloped his brain. "Why take my gun? Why not shoot me? Why are you _here_ damn it?" 

Krycek stepped back as Mulder finally took the weapon in his own lax grip. He smiled a rather friendly smile and said, "I like you Mulder. Your innocence and idealism are a constant surprise after what all you've seen and kinda refreshing if dangerous. I took your gun so you wouldn't hit me and because I can and well, it's fun. I won't shoot you because... well, that's a bit more complicated and I don't think I want you to know too much. You're dangerous enough as it is." 

"Dangerous to you or the men you work for?" Mulder asked feeling desperately confused and unsure why. 

Krycek clicked his tongue against his teeth and grinned, "You don't want to know. Just remember, don't catch the guys you were chasing, got it?" He started to drift back into the darkness. 

Mulder snapped to attention as he heard Scully's voice call from the street, "I think I lost them. Mulder, what are doing in there?" 

Mulder looked around at the empty shadows and said sadly, "Nothing, I guess." 

He holstered his weapon and went to join his partner thinking /What the hell just happened?/ 

* * *

Rated R for a certain G-Man's language.   
Disclaimer: I don't own them but I wonder if CC has ever considered renting them out... I've got about a buck and a half and a demented cat to spare. I really hope I did this right...   
---


	2. Mouth to Mouth

  
**Mouth to Mouth  
by Amy B**

  
Mulder stumbled into the motel room utterly exhausted. He and Scully had chased a so-called "Gatorman" through miles of woods and swamps; only to finally catch up to a regular guy with an exotic skin disease, and a penchant for stealing from other fishermen's catches. They had turned him over to the sheriff with a handful of prescriptions from Dr. Scully for various ointments and unguents. All this while they were officially supposed to be tracking fertilizer sales for Kersh. 

Could Louisiana possibly be any more humid? And hot and mosquito infested? Haven't these people heard of autumn? He stripped his wet nasty clothes off and headed for the shower, where he soaked up more heat and humidity in the form of hot water and steam. It felt so wonderful, he decided that Louisiana was not bad at all. The food was good at least. 

After desultorily drying off, he pulled on boxers and collapsed on the bed, remote control in hand. He flipped through the channels with little interest, finally settling on an infomercial featuring the Stupendous Yappi and his psychic hotline. He turned the sound down to a background drone and closed his eyes. 

Instead of sleep, he found visions of Alex Krycek dancing in his head. The lying, murdering, traitorous... et cetera. Whatever. Mulder was tired. Tired of the litany of curses and insults that ran through his head at even the thought of Krycek. Mostly he was tired of his own conflicted feelings for the man. 

For even when Alex was his most infuriating, he was also strangely alluring. Although he had betrayed Mulder, he had also helped him on occasion. And though he was a stone cold killer, he never once fought back when Mulder punched him and shoved him around. Just what the hell was that all about anyway? 

Mulder was beginning to wonder who was crazier, him or the rat bastard that took up way too much of his thoughts these days. If Scully ever found out about his new obsession, he knew where her vote would be cast. 

In the two weeks since the incident in the alley, Mulder had found himself frequently distracted by random thoughts of Alex Krycek. He could be walking down the street, catch a glimpse of black leather, and suddenly he was back in his apartment with Krycek pressing his lips to Mulder's cheek. A brief glance into green eyes sent his mind back to the alley and that velvety voice saying, "Take it Mulder. You know I won't shoot you." His libido would conveniently edit out the second part of the comment so Krycek's voice would echo through his body, "Take it Mulder." And he would be consumed with the desire to do just that. Over and over again. Any and every way possible. 

The chirp of his cell phone brought him back to the dumpy motel room. He reached over to the bedside table and picked it up, absently wondering why Scully didn't just knock on the door. "Mulder," he answered from habit. 

"Hey Mulder. How the hell are ya?" A jaunty male voice spoke into his ear making him sit straight up on the bed. While the voice was painfully, arousingly familiar, the jovial tone was not. He sat stunned into silence so long that the voice said, "Hey Mulder, old buddy! You still there?" 

"Krycek?" he asked, still disbelieving what his ears were telling him. "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you on crack or something?" 

"Nope. I'm cool. Well, I did have a little vodka," replied the multi-agent cheerfully. 

"How much is a little?" Mulder's curiosity was getting the better of him as he was confronted with a rather exotic creature—a happy-drunk Alex Krycek. 

"I dunno. Half a bottle, maybe? Nah, had to be more'n that. Who cares? I was thinking about _you_ , Mr. Fox-don't-call-me-that Mulder. 'S not the first time, of course, but it is the first time I felt like taking a chance on talking to you." 

Mulder spoke slowly, almost gently. "Where are you and how did you get my number?" 

"I know everything about you, Fox-don't-call-me-that. I know you're colorblind, which could explain the ties except they'd still be ugly even without color. I know where you keep your porn videos in your desk at work. I know that if you don't start feeding your fish more often they're gonna die... again." 

Mulder's teeth began to grind a bit as he asked, "Where...are...you...Krycek?" 

"I'm at your place, buddy. Didn't I mention that already? You know, you have got some freaky stuff in your video collection. Did you know that? Freaky... I like freaky. Freaky's good. Fun. You remember fun don't you?" 

"Krycek, get out of my apartment. I am not your buddy. I don't even like you. You killed my father, you bastard." 

"I DID NOT! You always have to pull out that tired old accusation when you know good and well that I did no such thing. I could never hurt you in such a heinous manner, Fox-don't-call-me-that." 

Mulder sighed as the indignant voice on the line lowered with hurt. He promised himself that if Krycek started to cry he was definitely hanging up the phone. Settling back against the pillows, Mulder waited to see if Krycek would come anywhere near the point of this call before one or the other of them passed out. 

"Mulder, are you still there?" Krycek was quiet now and his voice had taken on a seductive timbre. 

"Yeah," Mulder breathed cautiously. "I'm here." 

"Would you do something for me?" 

"Probably not." After a moment, he sighed and asked, "What is it?" 

"Call me Alex." 

"What? Why?" 

"I'd just like to hear it. Spoken by you—just once— when it's not in anger. I love your voice, Mulder. It can be very warm and soft. Like when you talk to Scully. Talk to me like that just once. Please?" 

As Alex was speaking, Mulder was focused on the deep rich sound of that soft husky voice coming through the phone. His eyelids slipped down as he pictured the sensual mouth speaking the words. Mobile lips caressing each syllable. How talented that sweet mouth must be, thought Mulder as he felt himself getting aroused. 

He held back a moan as he slipped his hand down his belly and into his boxers. He took his aching flesh in hand just as Krycek spoke again. 

"Mulder, you there?" 

"Yes...Alex," sighed Mulder as his hand began to pump his rigid cock. He was already so close just from the sound of a smooth sexy voice on the phone. The girls from the phone sex place never had this effect on him. Just... 

"Alex. Mmm, Alex." 

"Thank you, Fox Mulder." Happy-drunk Krycek was back as he said, "Pleasant dreams." Then a click and he was gone. 

Mulder dropped the phone and continued to pleasure himself and in minutes he was coming, forcefully shooting into his hand and over his belly. 

He cleaned himself up and muttered, "What the fuck was that all about?" 

* * *

Rating: R (maybe NC-17)   
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of CC, 1013, Fox, etc. I borrow them for my own amusement with the hope of amusing others.   
Notes: Thanks to Nicole for the excellent beta (damn those commas!) but, of course, any remaining mistakes are mine. The number of arms on the Rat is open to interpretation so far, but I reserve the right to give him two at some point in the future— just because I can.   
Sequel to "All in the Hands" because I like nothing better than a confused Mulder and, of course, a little Alex-worship is never amiss.   
Feedback desperately craved and enthusiastically responded to ;-) [email removed]   
---


	3. Scratch'n Sniff

  
**Scratch'n Sniff  
by Amy B**

  
Fox Mulder came home from his latest penalty assignment in the swamps of Louisiana to find an empty Stolichnaya bottle on his newly cleaned off coffee table. He shook his head and put his bags away, wondering at his lack of surprise and, more importantly, lack of anger. So... Alex Krycek had used his apartment as a rest stop last night and then called to tell him so. That took plenty of nerve, something Krycek had never lacked. 

At least he was gone today. And it didn't look like he had gotten sick on the rug— a very good sign. A small, gleefully evil part of Mulder hoped that young Mr. Krycek was suffering from the mother of all hangovers from hell today. It would serve him right for breaking and entering. 

Mulder wandered back to the living room and checked his phone messages while booting up his computer. He quickly checked through his various e-mail accounts, but found nothing urgent waiting for him. After a day of travelling, writing reports, and listening to Scully drone on about some new medical theory, Mulder wanted nothing more than to relax with a beer and some TV. Flipping through the channels found nothing of interest, so he put in a video and sprawled on the couch. 

He was very relaxed while watching KoKo and KiKi practicing their particular talents on each other's nubile bodies, but when Fernando, the pool boy, joined the fun, Mulder suddenly became distracted from the girls. Fernando, with his dark hair, sultry eyes, and fuck-me mouth, reminded him too much of Alex Krycek. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch, sipped his beer, and tried to focus on the movie. Something hard was poking him in the hip so he scooted over to find a small plastic box stuck between the cushions. 

He pulled out the half-empty box of cinnamon Tic Tacs and tossed them on the coffee table. They slid across the wood coming to rest against the vodka bottle with a taunting click. He stared at the innocuous little breath mints and drained his beer. He got up and went to the kitchen for another. 

He settled back down, sipping the cold beer and pondering the night before. Alex must have been sitting or lying on his couch so that the box fell out of his pocket. Alex was the only person Mulder knew who practically had a jones for Tic Tacs. Back when they were partners, he had teased Alex about his neurotic need for fresh breath, while silently enjoying the cinnamon and spice scent of his gorgeous young partner. And Alex had always... 

_Wait a minute. Wait just a fucking minute. What's with all this "Alex" crap? When did he stop being "Krycek -the -Russian -traitor -slash -Syndicate - assassin -who -killed -my -father"?_ Mulder thought frantically. Daydreaming and fantasizing were one thing, but now he was reminiscing about the good old days, which hadn't really been all that good. Had they? Well, Alex hadn't been a bad partner and he had believed in Mulder and his work. Hadn't he? Mulder wasn't certain, but he liked to think so. It made everything that followed a little easier to take. 

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. His fingers slowed as they passed over the bridge of his nose. He idly measured his beak with his thumb and forefinger. It was rather... substantial— not at all like the pointy little thing that passed for a nose on Alex Krycek's face. Now _that_ was a frivolous confection, hardly worth noticing except that it fit so perfectly with the rest of his face. An erotically appealing, yet infuriating face that could pass from angelically sincere to wickedly sly in an instant. 

Krycek had been sticking his paltry little honker into Mulder's business with alarming frequency of late. This development was disturbing to Mulder on so many levels. This latest business of breaking into his apartment and getting drunk was especially disquieting. Alex was provoking him for a reason, but he couldn't see what it was yet. He pondered various options as he sipped his beer, working up a nice mellow buzz. 

He finally decided the most likely reason for Krycek's recent appearances in his life was a simple one. The man was trying to drive him crazy. Mulder's hold on sanity was admittedly tenuous in the best of circumstances, so it seemed quite possible that Alex, acting either on his own, or under orders from who knows where, was trying to drag him over the fragile line into total ready-to-be-committed-to-a-nice-soft-room lunacy. And the son-of-a-bitch was probably having a damn fine time doing it, too. 

Mulder gave the Tic Tacs and vodka bottle one last glare and swung his feet up onto the couch, stretching out into a more comfortable position. He snuggled his head into a throw pillow then groaned as the scent of Krycek's aftershave surrounded him in a phantom embrace. It was that same damned Old Spice that went straight to his groin and called his cock to attention. The same fragrance that had driven him to distraction Monday through Thursday on the green junior G-man who had followed him around like a puppy. Of course, Friday's Polo had had the exact same effect. He never had found out why Krycek only wore Polo on Fridays. It was just one more mystery that made up the enigma called Alex. 

He sniffed the pillow deeply and the scent made his cock jump, eager to come out and play. With resigned horniness, he unzipped his pants and grabbed the waistband of his boxers. He lifted his hips and pushed his clothes down to his knees. He turned his face into the pillow and stroked his hard cock slowly, trying to rein in his excitement. He didn't want to give in too soon. He imagined it was Alex's hand on his needy flesh, running his fingers up to the head, circling and circling, hitting the most sensitive spots over and over. 

Drawing in the scent of Old Spice with each quickening breath, Mulder was close, so close to completion. His orgasm was starting the snaking glide down his spine, and his cock was leaking with pre-come, making his hand's path smoother and hotter. _Almost there, yes Alex, so close, here it comes baby—_

The phone rang, shattering the fantasy of the moment but barely taking the edge off Mulder's passion. He was too far gone to answer and he knew the machine would get it anyway. The hand on his cock stroked harder and faster while the other worked his balls and the magic spot right behind them. He was close again... _yes, that's it..._

His own brief message finished and a dark smoky voice came over the machine as clear as if he was right there in the room, "Mulder. Are you thinking about me?" 

"YES!" Mulder yelled, as his body arched off the couch and come shot up his belly and onto chest. 

As he settled down and caught his breath, he realized Krycek was still talking, but Mulder had no idea what he was saying. He reached over, snagged the phone, and panted, "Krycek, what the fuck do you want now? If you're calling from my office, I'm really gonna be pissed." 

"You don't have an office anymore. Big bad Jeff Spender's got it and your old girlfriend too." 

"Thank you so much for reminding me exactly how hellish my life has become lately." He breathed deeply to calm his racing heart but Alex's scent, now mixed with the smell of his own semen, filled his head with images that made his heart beat even faster. A tingle of interest from his recently spent nether regions shocked him back to reality. "What do you want Al— uh, Krycek?" 

Krycek chuckled and said wonderingly, "You almost called me Alex." 

"I did not!" Mulder snapped as he sat up and pulled his clothes into some semblance of order, as if Krycek could see him lying there half-naked therefore gaining some advantage. 

"Yeah, you did. Was that a zipper I just heard? Why Mulder! You _were_ thinking about me!" Krycek let loose with that soft sexy chuckle again and Mulder knew he was nearly lost. 

_Great, he's also got the ears of a bat!_ thought Mulder but all he said was, "If I was, it was just to wonder why you left your empty bottle on my table." 

"So you would have proof that I had been there, naturally. I thought you might not have believed me on the phone last night." 

"Me? Not believe you? I wonder why that could be," Mulder muttered sarcastically. 

"Ah, come on, Mulder, when have I ever lied to you? I mean when it was really important." 

Mulder shook his head at the sheer audacity of the man. He sighed, rubbed his eyes, and asked once again, "What do you _want_ , Krycek?" 

Krycek laughed briefly and said, "You, you brilliant moron. Isn't it obvious by now? Do I have to draw you a picture?" 

"You—you want me? You _want_ me? _Me_?" Mulder asked incredulously. "But... but..." 

Krycek's sigh curled around Mulder's heart as he said, "Why do find that so hard to believe? Don't you think you're lovable?" 

"Lovable?" squeaked Mulder. "You're drunk again aren't you?" 

"Nope, stone cold sober. And don't get all bent out of shape, okay? I was just asking a general question. I am _not_ making a declaration here." 

With a click, Krycek was gone again, and Mulder was left holding the phone in stunned silence, until the annoying buzz of the dial tone reminded him to hang up. 

"Apparently, insanity looks a lot like my apartment," muttered Mulder as he hung up the phone. He was still as confused as ever, but now he was also lonely. 

He raked a hand through his hair and looked around the room a little blankly. His eyes lit on the coffee table and he nearly smiled. He picked up the Tic Tacs, shook out a couple, and popped them in his mouth. The burst of cinnamon made his tongue burn and tingle, but it felt good, almost like a kiss. He got up to go take a shower and picked up the bottle to take to the trashcan, but, on second thought, he set it back down. It could wait, and while it was there he didn't feel quite so lonely any more. 

* * *

Rating: NC-17   
Disclaimer: The boys and their universe belong to CC, 1013, Fox, etc. I borrow them for love not money and I get nothing in return except a cheap thrill and maybe some feedback . ;-) [email removed]   
Thanks to Nicole for an excellent beta, a rockin' good title, research, and supportive friendship. Thanks to Dr. Ruthless for the excellent word choice (which added to the more obvious inspiration) and for being gracious enough to let me borrow it.   
---


	4. The Next Voice You Hear

  
**The Next Voice You Hear  
by Amy B**

  
After a refreshing shower, Mulder didn't feel quite as tired anymore. It was too early to go to bed or rather the couch, not that he would sleep much anyway. Obviously a video wouldn't hold his attention, and he didn't feel like working. He paced restlessly around the living room for awhile until his eyes fell on the box of Tic Tacs. He smiled slightly as a sneaky thought struck him. 

He picked up the phone, dialed *69, and then sprawled on the couch. After a couple of rings, a wary voice answered, "Yeah?" 

Mulder didn't say anything for a moment. Just listened to the sound of Alex Krycek's breathing. It sounded just a little fast. 

"Mulder," sighed Alex. "What do you want?" 

"Now why does _that_ sound familiar? How'd you know it was me?" 

"Hello? You don't think I'd have 'Caller I.D.'?" Krycek replied with an audible smirk. 

"Yeah, I guess with so many people out to kill you, it pays to know who's on the line. Had any attempts on your life lately?" Now it was Mulder's turn to smirk. 

"Why? Want some tips for the next time _you_ want to take a shot at me?" 

"Hey, I may have kicked your ass a few times, but I've never tried to kill you." 

"Did you forget why Scully had to shoot you that time outside your building? I should have sent her some flowers or something. Oh, that's right, I forgot. She hates me." Krycek chuckled darkly and said, "You know, she was so jealous of me during our brief foray into partnerhood. She knew I could take you away from her." 

"Take me...? You took _her_ away from _me_ , you dumbass," replied Mulder incredulously. 

"I had a very minor role in all that, and you did get her back. You can really hold a grudge, can't you Fox-don't-call-me-that?" 

"No, please," groaned Mulder. "Don't start that again." 

"Well, you won't let me call you 'Fox' even after all we've been through together. So what can I call you? Sweetheart? Babycakes? Snickerdoodle?" Mulder had forgotten how well Krycek could do 'innocent'. The man had clearly missed his calling as an actor because he had managed to say those ridiculous names with a straight... voice. 

"Do you have to call me anything? Do you even have to call me?" 

Mulder felt control of the situation slipping from his hands, as usual, when Krycek replied, "Hey, hey buddy, this time _you_ called me." 

"Yeah, and I don't know what I was thinking. I'm going to hang up now," stated Mulder matter-of-factly. 

"No, wait!" Alex spoke quickly, without the underlying amusement of previous comments. His voice was a darkly sensuous purr, "Talk to me, Mulder. What made you call me back?" 

Mulder shivered and thought for a moment before reluctantly answering, "Tic Tacs." 

"Tic Tacs," Alex repeated flatly. "Tic Tacs?" 

"Yeah, Tic Tacs." 

"Mulder, would it be too much trouble for you to speak in complete sentences? What about the fucking Tic Tacs?" The impatient tone didn't detract from the smoky sensuality of Krycek's voice. 

"You left them here. Cinnamon, just like the old days. Which reminds me...what was the deal with the Polo?" 

"What? Mulder, what are you rambling on about now?" 

Mulder smiled to himself, determined to keep Krycek as off-balance as he himself had been lately. This could turn out to be a lot of fun. 

"Remember when we first met and you were pretending to be an FBI agent?" 

"Hey, I _was_ an agent." 

"Whatever. Do you remember how you wore Old Spice after-shave all week except for Fridays when you wore Polo? Well, I've always wondered why you only wore Polo on Fridays." 

"You're so weird. You could ask me just about anything, and you ask about my after-shave? No accusations of murder and mayhem? No questions about alien projects or global conspiracies?" 

"I was curious..." 

"Yeah, that'll get you killed someday. I'm curious about something too. What are you wearing?" 

Mulder gulped and wondered if there was any point in fighting this dark seduction. Maybe he should play along and see what happened. He glanced down at his faded Redskins t-shirt and smiley-face boxers and winced. He lowered his voice and said, "What do you think?" 

"I _want_ you to be naked or maybe wearing a pair of black silk boxers and a studded slave collar." 

"Stud—studded..." repeated Mulder faintly, but Krycek continued as if he hadn't spoken. 

"But, more realistically, I figure you've been home long enough to change clothes, and you would pick something practical and comfortable—like sweats or jeans—just in case you get an unexpected late night visit." 

"Visit? Are you coming back?" Mulder mentally smacked himself as soon as the needy-sounding words left his mouth then tried to cover. "I mean, any time you want to pass on information about what your Syndicate friends are up to... I could use a new source since I'm out of the X-Files. You want to tell me what's going on in your murky little world?" 

"I'm pretty much on my own right now. Looking out for you on occasion, but mostly just getting by." 

"Poor baby. Must be rough not being able to sign up for unemployment," replied Mulder with a bit of his customary sass. He leaned over and picked up the empty vodka bottle. 

"Yeah, well don't worry about me. I used to make more in a week than you do in a year, so I've got plenty saved up. And a much nicer apartment than that interesting specimen of yours." 

"Why don't you retire to some nice tropical island then, if you're so rich?" Mulder idly spun the bottle between his hands as he thought about Alex lying naked on a hot sandy beach. He almost groaned as his already-came-once-should-be-finished-for-the-night-body started hardening with arousal. 

"Because there is still work to be done. And besides, what would you do without me to kick around?" asked Alex with gentle amusement and a remarkable lack of bitterness. 

"Probably get a good night's sleep," answered Mulder absently as he twisted the cap off the bottle and took a sniff. He gingerly touched his tongue to the rim, wondering if Alex had drunk straight from the bottle. If his mouth had been where Mulder's now was. The thought sent a thrill through Mulder's gut and made his cock throb almost painfully. 

The sound of Krycek's laughter brought his attention back to the phone. The man was nearly hysterical, and Mulder was at a loss as to why for a moment. He realized what he had said and how Alex must have taken it, as if thoughts of Alex kept him awake at night. Of course, this was sometimes true, but Krycek didn't need to know that. 

While Krycek tried to get himself under control, Mulder turned his attention back to the bottle. Since there was no glass on the table and Krycek certainly wouldn't have washed the dishes, Mulder decided he must have drunk the vodka straight from the bottle. He sniffed one more time but didn't detect anything out of the ordinary. He ran his tongue around the rim and imagined he could taste Alex in the traces of vodka that clung to the glass. He shivered with the faint sting of the alcohol and did it again, this time dipping slightly into the bottle. 

The bottle clinked ever so gently against the phone and Mulder froze. Of course, the bat-eared boy heard and asked "What was that noise, Mulder?" 

Mulder stopped making love to the bottle and answered a little too quickly, "Nothing." 

"That sounded like a glass bottle. An _empty_ glass _vodka_ bottle. Just how weird are you, Mulder?" Alex asked slyly. 

"I was just drinking a beer. That's all it was," replied Mulder, trying not to sound defensive and give away the lie. "Now what were you laughing at?" 

Alex ignored him and asked his own question, "So does this phone call mean you want me too?" 

"More than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick." 

"I can give you a poke, all right. That would be no problem at all. Want me to come over right now, Mulder? I can fulfill _all_ your fantasies." Krycek was purring now and giving Mulder a hard-on a cat couldn't scratch. 

"No! I didn't say I wanted you, and I did not say I had any fantasies." 

"Come on, Mulder I can hear it in your voice. I'll bet you're hard as a rock right now, aren't you? Are you holding your cock in your hand as you talk to me? Are you caressing it to the rhythm of my words?" 

"No, of course not." Mulder slipped his boxers down and proceeded to do just as Alex described. He pictured Alex on the other end of the line with his sultry smile as he listened to the almost hypnotic flow of words. 

"How big is it, Mulder? I've seen you in a Speedo, remember? You may be skinny, but you're big where it counts, aren't you? I'd like to see how big. Ever had anybody deepthroat that bad boy? I bet I could do it. I have all kinds of talents." 

Mulder drew in a deep breath and tried not to give in to the pictures his brain was cooking up. Alex on his knees taking Mulder's cock down that long gorgeous throat, squeezing in warm wetness. His eyes rolled back in his head as his fingers mimicked the tongue action he imagined Krycek was so skilled at. 

"Oh and Mulder, not to brag or anything, but I have some pretty impressive equipment too. So if you want that poking you've been asking for over the last five years, I can do a very thorough job of it. I like to go in real deep and hard. You like that, Fox-don't-call-me-that?" 

"Oh, yeah..." Mulder moaned as he dropped the phone and came into his hand. The second orgasm of the night was just as spectacular as the first, if a little less abundant in actual output. 

He calmed himself and picked up the phone to hear a hoarse, breathless voice say, "Was it as good for you as it was for me?" 

Mulder let out a little laugh and said, "I don't know. How good was it?" 

"It was so good I'm going to put your number on speed dial." 

"I'm crushed. You mean it wasn't already there?" 

"Good night, Mulder. Eat some Tic Tacs and think of me. Pleasant dreams," offered Krycek, and then he was gone. 

Mulder smiled and answered the emptiness, "No doubt about that, Alex, but now I'm sure I'm insane. It's not really as bad as they make it out to be." 

Then he took Alex's advice. And they were, indeed, very pleasant dreams. 

* * *

(and we still don't know how many arms Alex has...)

Spoilers: Takes place in Season 6, but all Alex Eps are fair game.   
Rating: NC-17   
Disclaimer: The boys and their universe belong to CC, 1013, Fox, etc. I borrow them for love not money, and I get nothing in return except a cheap thrill and maybe some feedback . ;-) [email removed]   
Thanks & hugs to Sue and Donna for being the fastest betas in the west—and making this a much more readable story. (Changes were made so any mistakes are clearly mine.)   
Thanks & hugs to Te for many excellent ideas, some of which actually made it into this piece. To everyone who sent suggestions: Thank you and have patience, I'll try to get to them all eventually. Big hugs & kisses to Nicole for getting me here to Nick-Fixx—Y'all are awesome!   
Note: This takes up _directly_ after "Scratch 'n Sniff"   
---


	5. Just One Breath

  
**Just One Breath  
by Amy B**

  
Fox Mulder heaved a deep sigh and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He was bored... deeply, mind-numbingly bored. Of all the scut work that he and Scully had been doing since losing the X Files, this was the worst. The assignment was to sit and watch an office building in what had to be the most deserted part of D.C. At least, it was deserted at this late hour. 

He shot his cuff and looked at his watch in the dim glow of the few remaining streetlights. 2 a.m. and Scully wouldn't relieve him until 5. Since the man he was watching for would reportedly be on foot, he couldn't even depend on the noise of a vehicle to alert him. He had to keep his eyes trained on that shadowy doorway and call in the moment the suspect appeared. He wasn't even allowed to follow the guy, just report that he had arrived at the office. Kersh had been very clear that any screwups would virtually guarantee that the X Files would forever remain out of Mulder's reach. 

He had run out of sunflower seeds a couple of hours ago. If he drank any more coffee, which was cold anyway, he was going to jump clear out of his skin. He thought about getting out of the car and walking around a bit, but squashed that idea for fear of tipping off his quarry. 

Keeping his eyes on the building, he reached over and opened the glovebox, hoping he had another bag of seeds in there. The sound of a door opening behind him startled him into turning around. He caught a glimpse of dark hair and black leather before snapping his head around and drawing out his gun. He held the gun up and glanced back trying to see the intruder and keep the building in view. The angles involved made it very difficult. 

"Is that any way to greet a friend, my little Snickerdoodle?" The black velvet voice coming out of the darkness belonged to none other than Alex Krycek, whom he hadn't heard from in over a week. 

"Oh, I get it now. You _want_ me to kill you. Well hell, Alex, all you had to do was ask," replied Mulder disgustedly. But he did put his weapon away. "What are you doing here?" 

"You're very inquisitive aren't you? Always asking questions." Krycek reeled them off as if reading a grocery list, "What do you want? Where are you? What are you doing here? Why'd you take my gun? Is that my garter belt you're wearing? You're just full of questions." 

"Yeah, and you're just full of—" 

"Nuh uh uh, that's no way to talk, my little love monkey." 

"Krycek, I swear I am going to kill you. I can claim insanity or self-defense. Either way, they would never convict me once they knew how irritating you can be." 

"And you would want to air our dirty laundry in public, my little—" 

The sliding sound of a gun clearing leather stopped Alex before the next endearment made it out of his mouth. Mulder smirked and said, "Finally, a way to shut you up." 

"I know a much better way," insinuated Krycek smoothly, as Mulder felt the leer hit the back of his head with an imaginary thump. 

"What is it with you? Are you obsessed with sex?" Mulder manfully ignored the erection trying to break out of his own pants. 

"I didn't say anything about sex, now did I? But now that _you_ bring it up— no pun intended—have you been getting any? Besides from your lovely right hand, of course," chuckled Krycek as he leaned against the back of the front seat. 

Mulder swallowed hard as soft breath caressed his neck. He tried to sniff disdainfully, but almost moaned as the scent of Polo invaded his head. _Damn, the bastard would show up on a Friday._ It was underlaid with the faintest whiff of cinnamon. He almost came right then and there. He blinked slowly, knowing he had to keep watch on the building but wanting desperately to see Alex. 

He glanced into the rearview mirror and Alex snapped, "Eyes front!" He had obeyed the order before he even realized he was going to do so. 

"Aren't you on surveillance? You better keep 'surveilling' then." The cool amusement was back in his voice. "Just listen or talk, but don't look. You might miss your guy and get in trouble with the boss man." 

"How do you know so much about what I'm doing?" Mulder's knees may have been a bit weak with lust, but he was still plenty suspicious. 

"I told you before, Fox-don't-call-me-that." Krycek whispered right into Mulder's ear, "I know everything about you." 

Mulder could not control his shudder as the combination of warm air and Krycek's smoky voice tickled his ear. He felt a bit light headed as all the blood in his upper half raced down to his lower half, leaving him hard and aching. "Well, what else is new?" 

Alex chuckled and said, "What was that?" 

Mulder sighed and shifted in his seat. "Nothing. What are you doing here again?" 

"I just came to see you, Fox-don't-call-me-that. Can you believe I missed you?" 

"Not really, no." 

"Well, I did. I had to go to— oops, better not tell you where— for a few days. It was really cold and I had to— um, better not tell you that either. Well, I spent a lot of time thinking about you. You know, to keep warm." 

"Krycek, I'm supposed to be working, so if I ignore you, will you go away?" Mulder asked a little desperately as visions of warming Alex danced in his head. It put those sugarplums all to shame— besides, what the hell's a sugarplum, anyway? 

"Tell you what, you keep 'working'. I mean, really keep your eyes peeled for your suspect or whatever. And I'll just hang out here and keep you company. You wouldn't want to fall asleep or anything," said Alex in the most innocent, helpful voice Mulder had ever heard. He was not reassured, but he was unbearably aroused. 

Mulder shifted in his seat, trying to relieve some of the pressure in his groin and muttered, "Do whatever you want. Don't you always?" 

"Not always, darlin', or I'd have you bent across the hood of this car right now. And you and I would have been lovers _years_ ago. You'd have had me while I was young and vulnerable." 

Mulder snorted, "When would that be—grade school? That's illegal, not to mention disgusting." 

"I'm wounded, Mulder. You cut me to the quick." 

Mulder snorted again but didn't say anything. 

"Mulder... Fox... Snickerdoodle?" Mulder shot his meanest glare at the rearview mirror then quickly turned back to his watch. 

The sarcasm seemed mostly self-directed as Krycek said, "When we first met, I had a hero-worshipping crush on you. Isn't that the cutest thing you ever heard?" His voice slipped back into velvet soft seduction, murmuring, "Then I got to know you. No more crush for me, then it became raw animal lust. You know, the kind that makes you want to rip the other person apart with your teeth?" 

Mulder groaned and wondered if he could ease his hand into his pants without Krycek noticing. He decided it was worth a try even though the odds were not in his favor. He slid one hand into his lap, loosened his belt and button, and slowly slid the zipper down, coughing loudly to cover the sound. 

"You're not getting sick are you?" 

"Yeah, and it's contagious so you better get back before you catch a nasty germ." His cock leapt into his hand and he breathed deeply to control his reaction. 

Krycek laughed unpleasantly and said, "After the Black Oil, being infected with a simple little bad cold doesn't scare me much." 

"I guess not." Mulder suppressed another shiver as he stroked down his length with light teasing fingers, hitting the most sensitive spots with well-practiced touches. Krycek's breath was a sinuous flow over his neck and ear, and it was making his heart beat faster and his hand tighten. He had to say something to distract them both, so he opened his mouth and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "So you're wearing Polo on Fridays again?" 

"Yeesss... I bought it just for you. Here take a sniff," offered Alex and he thrust his face over the seat to almost brush against Mulder's. The agent's eyes nearly crossed as the scents of cinnamon, Polo, leather, and _Alex_ suddenly swirled around his head. His hand pulled hard on his cock and his head tilted back until he could just see the doorway that was the focus of his stakeout. He briefly noticed that Krycek seemed to be breathing rather heavily but his brain deemed this information unimportant considering the climax that was fast approaching, drawing all his body's resources. 

Mulder felt Alex's head tilt down and braced himself for contact but what he got was an exclamation, "Damn Mulder! Is that for me?" 

"What?" Mulder was too far gone for clever obfuscations. Heck, he was almost too far gone to keep his eyes open. Fear of Kersh's wrath was just barely strong enough to invade his lizard brain and keep his eyes focussed. 

"That's a very impressive woody you're pulling there," replied Krycek breathlessly. His deep growly voice almost covered the creaking leather sounds as he muttered in Mulder's ear, "That's gotta be for me, right? Work that bad boy, Fox. You're close, now. Come on, work it like you want to." 

Mulder had given up trying seriously to resist quite awhile back but now he gave up even the pretense as he stroked his cock faster. He was goal oriented, and it was within his reach. The long, almost-silent moaning exhalation against his neck tipped Mulder over the edge. Barely remembering to keep his eyes open, he arched his back and climaxed, catching the come in his shirt tail. 

He breathed deeply, taking in the earthy, yet alluring scents of aftershave, leather, sweat, and semen. He vaguely remembered a faint splattering sound coming from the back seat so he chanced a glance into the rearview mirror. Krycek's head was bowed and Mulder heard the sound of a zipper being zipped. He turned back around and was about to ask... what, he didn't know, then he spotted his quarry. 

He muttered a couple of quick curses and snatched up his cell phone. He punched in the number, gave the information, and agreed to continue watching until the other agents got there. "That was very close, Krycek. I almost missed him because of you," complained Mulder. He glanced in the mirror again. "What was that all about anyway?" 

But there was no answer because Krycek was already gone. 

Mulder sat in the car until his assignment was finished with the arrival of four dark sedans that ejected a flock of blank-faced men in dark suits. Ordinarily, he would have hung around and watched just out of curiosity. But this time he did as he was told and went straight home. It was almost four a.m. and he had to be at work at eight, so he needed to try to get a few hours sleep. 

As soon as he walked into his apartment, he checked his phone machine out of habit. Although he didn't really expect any messages, the infernally sexy voice slithering out of the little speaker didn't come as a big surprise. 

"Mulder, are you thinking about me?" 

Mulder muttered, "Well, I wasn't before..." 

Krycek's message continued with a slight chuckle, "I had a nice time tonight on our date." 

"Yeah, I have a stain on my upholstery to prove it." 

"I think you did too, Fox-don't-call-me-that, no matter what you're telling yourself now. But the reason I called is to tell you I have to go out of town again. So... I won't be seeing you or talking to you for awhile. They don't have good long distance service in— Well, anyway don't get worried if you don't hear from me for a few weeks. I probably won't be dead." 

"You better not be, 'my little Snickerdoodle'," snorted Mulder over the answering machine's whir of rewinding tape. Mentally whacking himself for being a fool, he took the tape out and stuck in one of the few places the men who had searched his apartment had not found yet. Then he went to bed and dreamed of a naked Alex covered in little cinnamon cookies. 

* * *

Rating: NC-17   
Disclaimer: Characters owned by CC, 1013, Fox etc. I borrow them for love and get nothing in return except some maybe some feedback. ;) [email removed]   
Notes: Thanks & hugs to Paula for the idea, the set-up, and encouragement.   
Big thank you to Nicole for the beta that saved Mulder from having a Southern accent. This is for everyone who has written asking for more.   
---


	6. While the Rat's Away

  
**While the Rat's Away  
by Amy B**

  
**Monday (Day 1)**

"Good morning, Agent Scully. I have a package for you." Dana Scully looked up from the computer with a faint smile and took the parcel. The office boy smiled hopefully and said, "It checked out okay and everything." 

"Thank you, Brad," Scully murmured and went back to her work. After a few moments of awkward silence and being totally ignored, Brad drifted away. Scully continued typing until she came to a good stopping point, then she pulled the package to the middle of her desk. 

It was about a foot square, covered in brown paper, and addressed in block printing with her name and work address. She carefully loosened the tape and removed the wrapping. Opening the unmarked cardboard box, she found a round cookie tin with a sealed envelope and a note on top. In the same block printing, the note read, "Please give to Fox Mulder, ASAP." 

"Mulder, could you come here a minute?" 

Mulder looked up from his expense report and asked, "Got any ideas on how to explain _this_ lost flashlight?" 

Scully slanted him an amused look and said, "I think you may have to cover this one yourself. We were supposed to be doing background checks, not tramping around the woods on wild speculation." 

"Yeah, but that _could_ have been an alien." He shrugged, took off his glasses, and mused, "Who knew raccoons were so dexterous?" 

"Wildlife biologists?" 

"Besides them." Mulder cracked a half smile and said, "So what's in the box?" 

"See for yourself. It's apparently for you." She handed over the open box. "It's not your birthday, so what's the occasion?" 

"I don't know," shrugged Mulder, as he took out the red tin container marked "Debby's Delights." He pried the top open and the warm sweet smell of cookies drifted out to tease his nose. He drew back the paper insert and saw neat stacks of small light brown cookies sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon. 

"Cookies? Who would send you cookies?" She took a sniff and said, "Smells good. What kind are they?" 

Mulder poked at one with a finger and cleared his throat. "They're snickerdoodles." 

"I haven't had those in years," said Scully with an avaricious gleam in her blue eyes. 

"Here, knock yourself out," muttered Mulder, as he shoved the box at her. He kept the envelope and slit it open. He drew out a single sheet of notepaper, turning his back to Scully before unfolding it. In a spare elegant script were the words, "Think of me." 

Mulder sighed and tucked the note into his shirt pocket. He picked up the wrapping paper and inspected it. No return address, but that was no surprise. D.C. postmark and overnight postage...now, that was a surprise since Krycek was supposed to be out of town. Mulder thought about it for a moment and decided Alex would have had just enough time to send the package before leaving on whatever nefarious secret mission he was on this time. 

Thursday (Day 4) 

"Another delivery for you, Agent Scully. Is it your birthday or something?" 

"No." Scully took the parcel and smiled. "Thanks, Brad." 

"You're welcome, Agent Scully. Anything else I can do, you just let me know," offered the office boy eagerly. 

"I'll keep that in mind," replied Scully politely, then fixed him with a penetrating stare until he blushed and backed away. 

Scully wondered if this one was also for Mulder and debated whether to open it. She finally decided that since it had her name on it, the secret was hers to unveil. She saved the paper in case Mulder wanted to inspect it later. She opened the unmarked cardboard box and drew out a smaller box gift-wrapped in discreetly patterned gold paper. There was a small card attached that read, "Please deliver to Fox Mulder." 

She weighed the box in her hand trying to guess its contents. She was shaking it slightly next to her ear when Mulder walked up silently behind her. 

"Whatcha doing?" Mulder's voice made Scully jump guiltily. 

She shoved the gift into his hand and said, "Ah, nothing. This just came for you. So who is sending you these gifts?" 

Mulder shrugged and unwrapped his latest treat. Another brief note in the same handwriting as the first read, "Thought it was time you moved beyond the Aqua Velva. This was so you. K." It was a bottle of cologne—Calvin Klein's Contradiction. Mulder stared at it for a moment and wondered for the hundredth time what Krycek was up to. He surely had some ulterior motive for this little seduction scenario he seemed to be playing out. 

Scully took the bottle and tested it, murmuring, "Mmm, nice." 

"Is it me?" 

Scully sniffed again, considered for a moment, and said, "Fresh, a little sweet... with just enough spice to keep it from being cloying. I guess it _could_ be you. So who did you say it was from?" 

"I didn't." And he had no intention of doing so, if he could at all avoid it. 

"Do you know who sent the gifts?" Scully sounded as if she were questioning a suspect, but her partner was resistant to such tactics. 

Mulder shook his head noncommittally, and stuck the cologne in a desk drawer. Looking at the outer wrapping paper, he noticed the Baltimore postmark and that the block printing seemed just a bit different from Monday's package. He pondered the differences for a moment then went back to work. 

"Mulder... Ah, never mind." Scully got back to her own work, but Mulder wasn't fooled into thinking she had actually given up. He knew a strategic retreat when he saw it, even in peripheral vision. 

**Tuesday (Day 8)**

"Hello, Agent Mulder. Is Agent Scully in yet?" Brad looked around the bullpen anxiously, clutching a packet to his chest. 

Mulder's eyes zeroed in on the large padded envelope and his heart began beating just a bit faster. He nodded at the office boy and said, "If that's for Agent Scully, I'll take it and give it to her when she gets in." 

"Oh, no, I couldn't. It _is_ for Agent Scully, so I must give it to her personally," said the young man earnestly, smoothing his sandy brown hair with an unsteady hand. 

"It would be no trouble at all. I'm sure you're too busy to be waiting around here. Why don't you just give it to me, and I'll make sure she gets it," Mulder suggested solicitously. 

Brad tightened his grip and shook his head just as Scully came up behind him. At the sound of her clicking heels, he whirled around, almost knocking her over. Grinning widely, he thrust the parcel at her and said, "Another package, Agent Scully! Are you sure it's not your birthday?" 

"Quite sure. Thank you, Brad." She took the padded mailer, glanced at the address, and smirked. She waited until the office boy had walked away with a last adoring glance, then held it up to Mulder and said, "I wonder what we have today." 

She tore open the large envelope to find another "Give it to Mulder" note and a flat box wrapped in silver paper. She handed it all over to Mulder and waited for him to open his newest present. 

Mulder looked at Scully, then looked at the box. He looked at the lettering on the envelope, which was the same as the last with another Baltimore postmark. He looked back at Scully, and then looked at the box again. 

"Come on, Mulder, open it." 

With a twitch of his shoulders, he stripped off the silver paper and opened the box. He cautiously drew back the delicate snow white tissue paper to reveal a soft black leather glove folded in half. With a questioning frown, he drew it out to discover that it was long enough to reach the elbow. It was big enough to fit a _man's_ hand and forearm, and it was not alone. In the box was another glove, this one of black velvet and also elbow length. The note read, " Fox, I'll bet you know what to do with these. Think of me." 

"As if I could do anything else. You make sure of that." Mulder cursed under his breath and quickly stuffed the gloves into his coat pocket. The note went into his breast pocket to later join its literary brothers and the answering machine tape in the secret compartment behind the agent's bathroom cabinet. 

"Anything you want to tell me?" 

The amusement in Scully's voice had the same effect as biting into aluminum foil. He shot her a dark look and said, "No." 

"Mulder, did you go out and get a social life without telling me? Or are these tokens of esteem from a secret admirer?" 

Mulder gave her his usual deadpan look and said, "Wow, would you look at the time? I believe we have some poop to scoop, don't we?" 

"Yes, our flight for Idaho leaves in an hour, so we'd better get going. But you're not off the hook." 

**Wednesday (Day 9)**

It was late in the evening when Mulder walked into his apartment. The trip had been mercifully short, if not particularly interesting. He wasn't even as tired as travelling usually made him. He went through his ritual of his checking phone and e-mail messages. 

There wasn't anything that couldn't wait, so he took his overnight bag to the bedroom. He tossed the dirty clothes in the general direction of the laundry basket, then took the gloves out of the side pocket where they had been carefully stored in tissue paper. 

He sat down on the side of the bed and laid them out across his lap. Brushing the gloves gently with just his fingertips, he shook his head and wondered what was going on in Alex's head. Mulder felt as if he were walking into spiderwebs. Each time he thought he was free, another sticky tendril slipped across him, clinging tenaciously until he doubted he'd ever get loose. 

He picked up a glove and worked his fingers into it, pulling the supple leather up his forearm. The fit was close without being tight, almost as if it had been made to fit the specific dimensions of Mulder's right arm. 

He brushed his fingers over his face, the cool leather warming rapidly against his flushed skin. The thin, resilient leather was unbearably sensual as his hand swept across his lightly stubbled jaw to his mouth. He brushed his open lips with a tentative finger, his tongue darting out for a brief taste. He moaned and remembered the times he had fought with Krycek. With a sigh, he tilted his head back and closed his eyes, picturing Alex. The leather jacket, the tight black gloves. 

The phantom feel of another's hand enclosed in leather and brushing his sensitized flesh made him painfully hard. His naked left hand unbuttoned his shirt, then fumbled his fly open. He drew his right hand down his chest, circling each nipple, then sweeping across his belly. Spearing his fingers through the pubic hair to grip the base of his cock, Mulder was struck by the unreality of it all. The hand inside the leather ceased to be his. It became some _other_. It became Alex's hand encased in the smooth soft glove moving on his body, caressing his cock, and making his heart race. 

It was all about Alex. The gloved hand working his erection, the naked hand petting his belly and chest, the teeth cutting into his bottom lip —all belonged to Alex in Mulder's mind. Alex's voice called to him from the alarming vicinity of his heart as he stroked himself to completion, lying across his bed in the silent dimness of his room. Closing his eyes, he came in panting silence, then lay there for several moments savoring the afterglow. 

When he sat up, the neglected velvet glove slid off his lap, and he caught it just before it hit the dusty floor. He removed the leather glove and placed them both in the empty cookie tin on the nightstand. He picked up the bottle of cologne, popped off the cap, and inhaled deeply. Contradiction was "so him", hm? Mulder was suddenly too tired to figure out what Krycek had meant by that typically cryptic remark. And anyway, he still had the velvet glove to play with after his shower. 

**Friday (Day 11)**

Mulder took two steps into the bullpen, then almost turned around and walked right out again. Brad was handing over another large brown envelope and simpering at Scully. _Now, is that anyway for a grown man to act?_ thought Mulder with a mixture of pity and contempt. _Can't he see she's not interested and simpering surely won't help his case?_

He got to his desk in time to hear Scully gently turn down a rather awkward request for a date. If poor Brad blushed any harder, his face would catch on fire. Mulder shook his head at the resentful look the spurned man shot his way. _Oh, yeah, as if._ Mulder repressed a shudder. _If you can melt her, buddy, you can have her. I've got my hands full enough already with Alex. Oh, yeah, I'd like to get my hands full of Alex..._

"Mulder...Mulder!" Scully's hand on his arm shook him out of a very nice daydream. She was staring at him with a worried frown. 

Mulder tried to reassure her with a smile, but it felt a little stiff. _Not unlike something else as a result of my little foray into fantasyland._ He sat down quickly and scooted his chair up under his desk, hoping he wouldn't have to stand for awhile. 

"Are you all right? You looked like you were a million miles away," said Scully, in her soothing doctor tone. 

"Not that far," replied Mulder blandly. He shuffled some papers and fiddled with a pen, trying to look busy while his erection subsided. 

"Your secret admirer strikes again." She handed him the envelope without even opening it this time. 

"What now?" he muttered, ripping the envelope open to find a distinctive white and pink striped box with gold hearts. It couldn't be... 

"Victoria's Secret, Mulder? Are you absolutely _sure_ you don't have something you want to tell me?" Scully grinned. 

"NO!" Opening a drawer, he dropped the box in, then stared at it as if it were a sleeping snake that could awaken at any moment. He was aware of Scully's surprise and amusement, but he couldn't look away. He wondered what was in the box, but he didn't want to know. 

He loosened the top and slipped his hand inside. Sifting through layers of tissue paper, his fingers briefly brushed satin and lace before finding the note and pulling it out. Turning slightly so Scully wouldn't be able to see it, he unfolded the single sheet and read, "I have a vivid imagination, Fox-don't-call-me-that. Do you? Wear this and think of me. See you soon." 

He closed his eyes and prayed for strength. He could resist. He was strong, and he _could_ resist the siren song of the unknown. He was sure he could do it. He hoped so anyway. 

In a moment of blinding clarity, Mulder looked at his personal life and decided that Eddie Van Blundht-the-'h'-is-silent was right. Mulder had considered it before, but self-preservation had prevented him from really agreeing with a man who had to pretend to be Luke Skywalker just to get a date. Now, he gave up the struggle and admitted to himself that he was a loser. The bright side was that, as Eddie had pointed out, he was a loser "by choice." So he could _choose_ not to be a loser, right? 

So how would getting involved with Alex Krycek help him shake off the bonds of loserdom? The man was, or had been, a Russian traitor, a Syndicate assassin, and a free agent looking out for number one...Mulder was unsure just what all Krycek was, but he knew there was a long list of people who would like to kill the man. If anything, Alex was even more messed up than Mulder. The agent allowed himself to feel smug and superior just for a moment then turned his mind back to the current problem. 

How would getting tangled up with the incredibly lickable, deliciously suckable, outrageously fuckable Alex Krycek keep him from being so _pathetic_ , that a guy born with a tail could pity him? Mulder had no answer but decided it would be fun to find out. And if he lived through the experience, so much the better. 

Mulder glanced over at Scully, who seemed engrossed in her paperwork, then quietly slid the drawer open and looked at his gift again. He cursed Alex's choice of packaging. He couldn't have chosen something a little less conspicuous, a little less well known? No, of course not. Alex would have to pick something that screamed "Mulder's a pervert!" with just a glimpse. 

He ran his fingers over the top of the box, debating whether to open it. Telling himself it could wait, he shut the drawer and got back to work. He worked steadily for the next three hours, thinking of the mysterious gift not more than a couple dozen times. 

His rumbling stomach diverted his attention from a surveillance transcript that was so boring it would have put a hyperactive three- year-old to sleep. He rolled his chair back and stretched until his bones popped. 

"Hey, Scully want to go get some lunch?" 

"Sorry, I can't. I'm meeting my mother...but you're welcome to join us if you want." 

"You couldn't talk about me then. Wouldn't that spoil your fun?" 

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'd still talk about you." 

"You make it sound so tempting, but I think I'll pass." Rising to leave, he stuffed the incriminating Victoria's Secret box into the innocuous brown envelope and took it with him. He figured he had enough time to go home and leave the package, which he did _not_ want to open. 

On the drive to his apartment, Mulder could feel the throbbing presence of the gift on the car seat beside him. He refused to look at it, but couldn't stop thinking about it. He told himself over and over not to even consider opening it. It was from _Victoria's Secret_ for crying out loud. A gift of satin and lace from a ladies' lingerie store could not be good. Krycek was apparently taunting him in some twisted way, and Mulder was sure he didn't want to know how or why. 

As soon as Mulder walked into his apartment, he took the box out of the envelope. He tossed the mailer on the table and turned the box over in his hands a couple of times. Finally the suspense got to him, and he tore the box open. Folding back the tissue paper, he withdrew a leopard print garter belt. As garter belts went, it seemed to be a top-of-the-line model, with silky black lace trim and touches of metallic gold in the richly colored satin. 

He held it for a moment, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now. Krycek couldn't honestly believe Mulder would actually wear the thing, could he? Mulder took the undergarment to the bathroom, intent on locking it away in his secret place along with the other really incriminating stuff. 

Stroking the smooth satin, Mulder admitted to himself that it did feel nice. No, not nice...sensual. There was nothing _nice_ about leopard print, dangerous and sexy, yes! He held it up to his hips and was not at all surprised that the thing looked like a perfect fit. Alex seemed to have a very good eye for measurements. At least, Mulder hoped it was a good eye and not that every centimeter of his body was measured, quantified, and listed in a file somewhere that Krycek could access. Deep inside him, he knew it was a futile hope, but it gave him some measure of comfort. 

Not quite believing what he was contemplating, he glanced at his watch. If he grabbed something at a drive-through and ate at his desk, he could get back to work almost on time. Shaking his head at his own impulsiveness, he dropped his pants. He held up the delicate garter belt in front of him again and realized it wouldn't fit over his boxers. He went to his dresser and rifled through his underwear drawer, finding nothing but boxers. He obviously needed to do laundry, but now was not the time. 

Mulder thought for a moment of just going without underwear, but his suit was wool, and no perversion, however exciting, was worth the discomfort. Finally he just pulled his boxers down and out of the way. Locating the tiny hook on the elasticized back, he wrapped the garter belt around his belly, twisting and tugging until it lay smooth against his skin just above his hipbones. He straightened the garters until they dangled through the legs of his boxers to tickle the tops of his thighs. He pulled his shorts back to the regulation position and moved for a better view in the dresser mirror. Turning this way and that, he examined his reflection. The belt itself wasn't really visible, but the garters danced freely against his legs. 

A glance at the clock made him jerk up his pants and run for the door. He would have to drive fast and hope Scully didn't ask why he was late. 

"I'm not going to ask why you were late getting back from lunch, Mulder. But I would like to know why you keep squirming in your seat. Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine." Mulder irritably brushed a lock of hair off his forehead, wondering if he had time to get a haircut before Alex got back to town. He mentally smacked himself for having such a thought, but decided to stop by a barbershop on the way home. 

"Uh huh, whatever." Scully shook her head at him and gave him that look that said she was questioning his sanity. 

Mulder wasn't about to tell her that he was having trouble with his garters. The front ones tickled, and the back ones were bunching under his ass. While Scully was his best friend in the world, there were things she did not need to know about him. Most of those things had the name Alex Krycek attached. 

He could imagine Scully's horrified reaction if he found out he was contemplating a physical relationship with Alex. He almost laughed out loud because "contemplating a physical relationship" sounded so intellectual when, in reality, he was fantasizing about fucking Alex any way he could. There wasn't much intelligence involved in the decision. It was mostly raw lust and some other emotions that he preferred not to name. He was getting pretty good at avoidance and denial in the interest of self-preservation. Skills he would most likely need if he became wrapped around Krycek the way he wanted to be. 

A quiet voice saying his name invaded Mulder's lusty thoughts and he absently answered, "Yes, Alex?" 

"Alex? Who's Alex?" Scully's amused perplexity made him sit up straight and scramble for something believable to say. 

"What do you mean? I didn't say 'Alex'." 

"Yes, you did." 

"No, I was thinking about something else and you surprised me, that's all. I'm sure you misunderstood." 

Scully gave him her don't-fuck-with-me-because-you'll-never-get- away-with-it look, so he sighed and said, "All right, you caught me. I was thinking about a new video I got yesterday, and I may have said 'Alice' by mistake." 

"There are porn stars named 'Alice'?" 

"As in, 'in Wonderland'," made up Mulder on the spot. He was mentally congratulating himself on his cleverness when Scully shook her head. 

"I don't think so, Mulder. It sounded like Alex-with-an-x to me, and it sounded personal. Is this 'Alex' the person sending you the gifts?" 

Mulder pursed his lips slightly, but didn't reply. 

"It is! So who is she...or is it a he?" 

Mulder looked away determined not to give her any more information. 

Scully walked over to stand beside him, lowered her voice, and said, "It's a man?" 

Mulder looked up at her and was surprised to see only curiosity and acceptance on her face. "You're not shocked or bothered that I might be interested in a guy?" 

"No, of course not. Who you get involved with is your business." Scully laughed and added, "As long as it's not Alex Krycek, of course! Are you going to tell me about him?" 

"No!" Mulder smiled weakly and said, "Not yet, okay?" 

"Whenever you're ready," his partner replied as they both got back to work. 

Mulder continued to squirm and daydream his way through the afternoon, ignoring Scully's knowing glances. If she only knew the real reason he was fidgety, she wouldn't be so understanding or amused. Anxious to be alone, he was thrilled when quitting time rolled around. He drove home, stopping only for a haircut and a bottle of vodka. 

The vodka sounded like a good idea after the stressful week he had just had. While Mulder wasn't usually much of a drinker, he thought he deserved to get good and drunk tonight. He wanted to be in the right frame of mind to either accept his feelings for Krycek or ignore them. Intoxication seemed to be the best way to go. 

When he got home, he went straight to the kitchen and filled a glass with ice and vodka. After several sips, he went to his bedroom and stripped down to his new lingerie. He traced his fingers over the sleek satin, causing the garters to swing and bump against his growing erection. He lightly skimmed one hand down his cock, while the other continued to caress the satin and lace of the belt. 

The intrusive ring of the phone made him curse and pull his boxers back on. His erection started to fade as he walked to the living room, but the voice on the line made it stand right back up. 

"What's up, Mulder? Thinking about me?" Alex's voice was rougher than usual, but the hoarseness just added to the sensual promise. 

"Always." Mulder closed his eyes as he realized he had given in way too easily. "You made sure of that with your little gifts, didn't you?" 

"Didn't want to test the old 'out of sight, out of mind' theory. Are you wearing it?" 

"The cologne? Sure, it's great, although I didn't realize you had a problem with the way I smell." 

"Now, don't be that way. You know what point I was making, Fox- don't-call-me-that," chided Alex. 

"I'm not sure I do. Why don't you spell it out for me?" Mulder urged his caller to reveal something— anything—that would give a clue as to what he was really up to. 

"I wasn't talking about the cologne, and you know it. You're wearing it right now, aren't you?" 

"Why? What are you wearing?" 

Alex laughed, low and dark. "A smile at the thought of what you're wearing." 

"You're a freak, aren't you, Krycek?" 

"Come on, Snickerdoodle. You _can_ call me by my first name." 

"I'll call you Alex, if you agree not to call me Snickerdoodle." 

Krycek sighed and complied, "Fine. And by the way, I don't think you're qualified to be calling other people freaks, Spooky. Glass houses and all that." 

"Alex—" 

"Do that again." 

Mulder detected a faint tremor in Alex's voice that hadn't been there before. "Do what again?" 

"Say my name again. I'm imagining what you look like when you say it." 

"Alex," murmured Mulder. 

"I can see you so clearly in my head. You're on the sofa right?" 

Mulder was actually standing in the middle of the floor, but he quickly moved over to sprawl on the sofa. He said, "Yeah, what else do you see?" 

"I see you in nothing but that garter belt. The tawny gold and black of the leopard skin contrasts beautifully with your pale skin. You look very hot." 

"Alex." Mulder shucked off his boxers and said, "Go on." 

"Your mouth is open slightly. Your very kissable, fuckable mouth is open because your breathing is starting to get erratic. Those mysterious hazel eyes are half-closed, pupils dilated with arousal. I bet you're so hard right now..." 

"So hard what?" panted Mulder, as he took his erection in one hand, cursing the need to waste the other by holding the phone. 

"So hard you come as soon as your cock is in my mouth. As soon as I wrap my tongue around it, you're shooting down my throat. I swallow every drop of your juice...would you do the same for me...Fox?" 

"Alex..." Stroking himself furiously, Mulder was incapable of forming a full sentence. Tilting his head, he wedged the phone between his ear and shoulder then dropped his free hand to his balls. 

"Would you do it, Fox? Would you suck me dry?" 

Mulder was so close now, all he could do was mutter, "Alex, Alex" over and over as his hands worked his body and his mind spun fantasies of Krycek and himself sucking each other off. 

"Mulder!" shouted Alex, and that brought the agent to a blazing completion. 

Mulder moaned and came hard into his hand. He lifted his messy hand and rubbed it onto his belly above the garter belt, so he could pretend for just a moment that Alex had come with him— on him. 

The breathless voice in his ear said, "Mulder, you didn't answer me." 

"Yes, Alex. I believe I would." Mulder rubbed his sticky belly again and said, "Yeah." 

"You're kinda simpleminded in the afterglow aren't you? How come I didn't notice that before?" 

"Mmm, don't know. When are you coming home?" Mulder asked the question vaguely with no real recognition of the implications. 

"You mean D.C.? It won't be long. You'll know when I get there. I gotta go, Fox-don't-call-me-that. Sweet dreams." 

"Alex, wait—" said Mulder quickly, but the line was already dead. 

He hung up the phone and went to the bathroom. He removed the garter belt carefully so it would stay clean, then folded it and put it with his other treasures in the secret compartment. Then he cleaned himself up, put on clean shorts, and fixed a fresh drink. 

The night was still young. Time enough to kick back, watch some TV, and get inebriated. But now the drunk had a celebratory air instead of a depressing one. He had something to look forward to— Alex was coming to him soon. 

He giggled at his phrasing. If he had anything to say about it, they'd both be coming soon. Together... in the same place... while actually touching—and licking, biting, sucking, and fucking each other. It was going to be beautiful, and Mulder couldn't wait. 

* * *

Rating: NC-17   
Disclaimer: Characters owned and operated by CC, 1013, Fox etc. I borrow them out of love and get nothing in return but a cheap thrill and maybe some feedback... ;)   
Notes: This story is for my friend Deb, with whom I sometimes share a brain. Thanks for helping me refine the concept, lots of fun research, and general cheerleading. I couldn't have done it without ya, sweetie!   
Thanks and hugs go to Nicole and Mouse for heroic betaing beyond the call of duty. If this thing is readable, y'all have them to thank.   
[email removed]   
---


	7. Physical Evidence

  
**Physical Evidence  
by Amy B**

  
Mulder had just dozed off on the couch when his front door opened. He opened his eyes to observe his visitor slink into the room. By the dim light of the lamp and the blue glow of the TV, he watched, speechless, as Alex Krycek casually removed his black leather jacket, hanging it neatly on the coat rack. He then removed his shoulder holster and hung it up, too. 

Gliding closer on silent cat feet, Krycek slowly started to unbutton his black shirt. The loosening flaps of the garment revealed a brief flash of skin as each button parted from its loop. The tease continued when Alex released the last button, but didn't remove the shirt. Instead, he toed off his boots and socks with amazing grace and dexterity, managing to look sexy instead of ridiculous. 

Mulder opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but a shake of Alex's head had him closing it again. He bent one arm behind his head and lay back to enjoy the show. Alex's smirk seem to say, "I knew you couldn't resist this..." 

Alex undid his cuffs, still leaving the shirt on, then moved his hands down his belly. Sliding his long fingers along the slight muscular curve, he dipped into the waistband of his jeans. As his fingers completely disappeared under the dark fabric, his thumbs popped the metal button open. The slow spread of his hands brought the zipper down, leaving a dark cotton covered bulge visible. 

Withdrawing his hands, Alex turned his back. He gave Mulder a good view of his very fine ass as he pulled the back of his shirt from the waistband. Shirt slipping off one shoulder, Alex looked back at Mulder with a smile that would have been coquettish if not for the mischievous, somewhat predatory gleam shining out from under the thick black lashes. Turning leisurely, he let the garment slide down his arms to land in a heap on the floor. Facing Mulder in nothing but open jeans, Alex blinked lazily, like a big cat on the prowl, his pink tongue flicking out delicately across a full lower lip. 

Mulder swallowed hard, wanting to feel that tongue somewhere else entirely. He dropped a hand to the erection tenting his shorts, and his eyes to its counterpart in the frame of Alex's jeans. He bit his lip to stifle a groan as Alex —finally— pulled his jeans down to reveal tight black boxerbriefs that hugged a very impressive package. 

Alex moved closer and knelt beside Mulder placing a soft kiss on his stomach, then on a nipple, while pushing his fingers under the elastic of Mulder's boxers. Taking his lover's cock in hand, Alex stripped the boxers away and lowered his head. Just before his mouth made contact with Mulder's throbbing flesh, Alex turned his head slightly and spoke for the first time. 

"Mulder, it's me." 

Mulder shook his head, because, although he saw Alex's lips move, the voice wasn't right. He started to speak, but the voice came again saying, "Come on Mulder, pick up. I know you're there—it's 1:30 in the morning." 

What...? Scully? Mulder cursed as he woke fully and his dream lover disappeared back into the mists of his subconscious. 

"Mulder, pick up the phone!" Scully's voice was coming from the answering machine and sounding more and more annoyed. 

Pulling his hand from his shorts, he picked up the phone and said, "You just wrecked a spectacular dream, so this had better be good." 

"Spare me the details. It's not good, but it is important. AD Kersh just called me. He's sending us to Alaska." 

Mulder cursed colorfully. "For how long?" 

"He said as long as it takes." 

Mulder felt a brief flash of panic. Alex was coming home soon and Mulder had to be there. He didn't want to take a chance on missing him. "As long as it takes to do _what_? Can't he send somebody else?" 

Scully sighed and said, "Yes, I'm sure he could, but he wants us to go. He would only say that we'll find out when we get there." 

"Damn, I hate it when he's coy." Mulder thought for a moment before quietly admitting, "I don't want to go, Scully." 

"What was that?" Scully had good reason to sound incredulous, Mulder thought. 

"This is not a good time for me to leave town." 

"Mulder, we don't get to choose... Is this about Alex? You think it's too soon in the relationship to be away?" 

"There's not really a relationship yet. I just don't want to miss the opportunity to start one." 

"Your friend will surely understand that your job is an integral part of who you are. If he's worthy of you, he should understand," Scully firmly stated. 

Mulder smiled and realized, once again, why Scully's friendship was so vitally important to him. She may occasionally give him grief or tear apart one of his pet theories, but she always defended and supported him when the odds were against him and the stakes were high. _Great, now I'm thinking in gambling metaphors. What am I going to do?_ "What am I going to do?" 

"I don't know what you _can_ do." 

Mulder frowned when Scully answered what he thought was a mental question. He could hear the compassion in her voice, so he said, "Yeah, you have a point. When do we leave?" 

"We're booked on a 6 a.m. flight from National." 

"I'll pick you up. And Scully? Thanks." 

"For what?" 

"For understanding? For friendship above and beyond the call of duty." 

"Do I get a merit badge for that?" 

"Nope. See you." Mulder hung up the phone and debated whether to change the message on his answering machine to somehow let Alex know he was out of town. He finally decided that information did not need to be shared with anyone who happened to dial his number. He hoped that if Krycek did call he would understand that Mulder's absence could not have been avoided. 

* * *

Mulder unlocked his door, still angry that he and Scully had flown all the way to Alaska only to find the case had already been solved. They had been ordered to get right back on the next plane to D.C. After countless hours in the air and in airports, he was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to settle onto his own comfy couch. He wondered if he could call in sick on the basis of not wanting to move for awhile. Stillness held strong appeal for him at the moment. 

He had taken three steps into the dark apartment when he realized not only was he not alone, but the intruder was lying on his couch. The situation felt like a twisted version of "Goldilocks and the Three Bears" except _that_ was no blonde-haired child sleeping on his sofa. It was a full grown adult, cocooned in a blanket, bare feet sticking out of one end and a shock of dark hair sticking out of the other. 

Mulder set his bag down silently and drew his gun, advancing on the apparently sleeping person. He circled around in front of the coffee table getting a good look at the feet as he passed them. They looked rather male to him, as did the large, sturdy hand clutching the blanket. 

Mulder stood back a safe distance from the sofa and said loudly, "Wake up! Slowly raise your hands where I can see them. Do _not_ give me an excuse to shoot you." 

A low groan sounded as the blanket was slowly pulled away from the visitor's face. Mulder winced at the sight of Alex Krycek's battered face. The black eye was starting to fade to a sickly brownish yellow, but the bruise on the jaw was still black and deep purple. The split lip also looked fresh, red and swollen. 

"Mulder, don't shoot... I'd raise my hands, but I think I've got a cracked rib," said Krycek in low raspy voice that made Mulder ache to hear it. 

"Al— Krycek? What happened to you?" Mulder lowered his gun, placing it on the coffee table as he sat on the edge. He peered closely at the man who had haunted his thoughts, dreams, and phone machine for so long. Krycek didn't look much like a dangerous killer at the moment. 

"I had a bad day at work. Several of them, actually. Here's where I'm supposed to say 'you should see the other guy', but there were twelve of them and they're all dead so..." Alex cleared his throat, then flinched as if the pain were intense. 

Reaching out, Mulder pulled the blanket down to reveal dark bruises in a smudgy fingerprint pattern contrasting starkly with the pale skin of Alex's neck. He brushed a gentle fingertip over the angry flesh, murmuring, "Damn Alex, what have you been up to this time?" 

"You ever consider that I might be an innocent victim?" 

"No, not really. But I won't ask any more questions except one. Where else are you hurt?" 

"It would be easier to say what _doesn't_ hurt." 

Mulder tossed the blanket over the back of the couch, revealing the length of Alex's body clad in nothing but boxer shorts and colorful contusions. Fist sized marks decorated his torso while a boot shaped bruise spread over his left thigh, the treads leaving livid impressions in the firm muscular flesh. Like the ones on his face, the injuries on his body seemed to be of different ages, suggesting two separate beatings. 

Skimming a hand lightly over Alex's flank, Mulder swallowed hard and said, "So what doesn't hurt?" 

"My hair." Mulder nodded and ran his fingers through the damp lock falling over Alex's forehead, then smoothed the tousled spikes sticking out in all directions. It was just as thick and silky as Mulder had thought it would be. Ignoring the faint amusement in Alex's eyes, he continued his stroking for another minute, watching Alex relax into the cushions with sensual abandon. 

Closing his eyes on a sigh, Alex whispered, "My feet don't hurt... much." 

Mulder smiled slightly and scooted down to the other end of the table. He picked up one bare foot and began massaging it. He firmly stroked the high elegant arch with his fingers while his thumbs smoothed the baby soft skin of the instep. As he rubbed the toes, giving each little piggy individual attention, Mulder leaned down and placed his lips against Alex's bony ankle. For a moment, he fancied he could feel the other man's pulse beating through the almost delicate skin. 

With a wordless sound of contentment, Alex nudged Mulder with his other foot. Reminded of his neglect, Mulder took the other foot in hand and gave it the same thorough treatment. Alex's feet were long and narrow, with the kind of calluses that came from martial arts training. They were also very clean, which led Mulder to wonder if he'd find wet towels in his bathroom, or if Krycek had somehow managed to take a shower without leaving any evidence behind. 

The rubbing became automatic as Mulder's eyes drifted up Alex's long legs and his mind went in a dozen directions at once. He wondered what on earth he was doing, and yet couldn't find it in himself to stop. He worried about what looked like concrete burns on Alex's knees, but refused to ask what had happened to him. His hands stilled as he said, "Alex, are those my shorts you're wearing?" 

"Mmm, too tired to get dressed after the shower...seemed easiest thing to do... couldn't lie here naked." 

"That certainly would have been a homecoming I'd never forget. Maybe next time?" Mulder asked with a hopeful grin. 

Alex cracked open one eye and tried to smile back, but the movement pulled his cut lip. He let out a little groan, and whispered, "You should be so lucky, G-man." 

"Lucky, huh? If I have any, it's strange luck." 

Alex snorted and said, "Better than being mediocre and boring. _That_ , you'll never be, Mulder." 

Mulder glanced over the length of Krycek's body and nodded at the obvious erection trying to escape the borrowed boxers. "Neither will you, Alex. Always full of surprises." 

"You're rubbing all over me, Mulder... a dream come true. Of course I'm gonna get hard." He closed his eyes again, sighing, "That's what you do to me." 

Mulder couldn't help being suspicious that Krycek would give him such power. Then he realized that the bizarre dance they had been doing for the last few weeks—no, the last few _years_ — had totally screwed up any balance of power they may have had. He was just as helpless against the pull of attraction as Alex apparently was, so he decided to stop fighting it. 

Bending close, Mulder brushed his lips lightly against the uninjured corner of Alex's mouth, brought his hand to Alex's crotch, and whispered, "What about here? Does this hurt?" 

"No, that's more of an ache," gasped Alex, twitching all over as Mulder's hand folded around his hardness. "What are you gonna do about it?" 

"What should I do? Massage away the stiffness?" With a sly little smile, Mulder pulled the shorts down Alex's thighs and took the long hard cock in a firm, experienced grip. All the while, he kept his eyes on those of the man who might possibly be his next lover. _Lover? Well, at the very least an interesting one-night stand. No going back now. You've got his cock in your hand so make the most of it. At least there's plenty to work with!_ Mulder held back the laugh that bubbled in his throat, doubtful that Alex would find his crazy thought patterns amusing at such an intimate moment. _Although knowing Alex and his sense of humor, he just might laugh his ass off._

"Come on, Fox-don't-call-me-that. You're not gonna leave me here with my engine revved up and the transmission still in park, are you?" Alex's hoarse, husky voice, nearly broken with need, reminded Mulder that he had been sitting there holding his lover's steely erection while his mind circled around nonsensical thoughts. 

"No, Alex. Let's put it in drive." While one hand rubbed Alex's cock in a slow sensual rhythm, the other stroked upward along an uninjured section of inner thigh, drawing a low moan as Mulder's fingertips grazed the sensitive perineum. Gently rolling Alex's balls between nimble fingers, Mulder continued massaging the needy, dripping cock in his other hand. He slipped his thumb over the head, gathering and spreading the pre-come around to lubricate his movements. 

When Mulder's gaze returned to the battered yet still beautiful face of his newest obsession, his chest tightened at the sparkle of unshed tears in shadowed eyes. He wondered if Alex had any idea how much he was showing right now and if it was intentional. Fox couldn't seem to hold onto his usual cynicism where this man was concerned. He wanted to believe... He wanted to believe that Alex Krycek was for real. 

Unwilling to reveal more of his own feelings than was probably safe, Mulder looked away from those eyes, focusing on his hands bringing Alex so close to completion. "I should kiss it and make it better," he murmured as he ducked his head and took the pulsing cock between his lips, sucking gently. Exhilarating in his first taste of Alex, Mulder gave the other man all he had— all his admittedly rusty skills, all his pent-up passion, all his needy frustrated desire. 

With a low groan, Alex arched his hips and came into Mulder's mouth, gifting his lover with his salty-sweet essence. 

As Mulder swallowed quickly then licked the sensitized flesh clean, he felt a hand lightly rest on top of his head. He glanced up as Krycek's scraped and swollen knuckles brushed his cheek on their downward slide to land on Alex's belly. 

With a weary attempt at a half smile, Alex whispered, "That was really great, but some codeine would also be nice." 

"I'll see if I have anything left from my last trip to the hospital." Ignoring his own arousal, Mulder fixed Alex's boxers and covered him with the blanket, then started out of the room. 

Alex spoke up. "Already checked the cabinet in the bathroom... didn't find anything useful." 

"That's because I keep the drugs in the kitchen," said Mulder as he stopped in the doorway, turning to look back at the man on his sofa. 

Alex settled his head into the throw pillow and closed his eyes. "Of course. Keeping medicine in the _medicine cabinet_ is just too expected, isn't it? Never be ordinary, Fox-don't-call-me-that." 

"So you've told me." Shaking his head, Mulder walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water and check his medical supplies. Finding half a bottle of Demerol that was still pretty fresh, Mulder returned to find his guest sleeping. 

Leaving water and two pills on the table for Alex to find should he wake, Mulder went to take a shower and relieve the erection currently trying to break out of his pants. Alex was in no shape to deal with it right now, but Mulder's arousal was reaching critical mass. 

After a hot shower and a jerk-off that left him vaguely unsatisfied, Mulder looked in on Alex who was sleeping soundly, then went to bed. He resented the loss of his couch and TV, but couldn't bring himself to wake Alex and make him move to the bed when the guy was in such bad shape. Alex's feet had kicked free of the covers, and Mulder tucked the blanket around them. He wondered if Alex would still be there in the morning or if he would make a quick recovery and be gone with the dawn. 

After tossing and turning for what seemed like endless hours, Mulder finally dropped off into a light sleep. When a cool, bare body sliding under the sheet awakened him, his first thought was how real this particular dream felt, even more than his last Alex-dream...the stripping dream. _Yeah, that was good one. Damn that phone call._ Mulder sighed and waited to see where this one would go, hoping for a climactic resolution this time. 

He lay there tingling with anticipation, but nothing happened. Just as he wondered if he should get things moving himself, a warm breath blew across his shoulder as a hand slipped onto his abdomen. A long, hairy leg brushed against his as his bedmate tried to get more comfortable. Choosing to take control of his dream, Mulder turned to his companion. He tried to take him in his arms, but pulled back when a groggy, gasping voice said, "Damn, that hurt! If you want to kill me, there're more humane ways of doing it." 

_'Hurt'? Alex?_ Mulder drew back in confusion. It wasn't a dream this time. Alex was really in his bed...with him. His dream come true was more like a nightmare because, now that he was finally here, Alex was in no shape to actually do anything. He almost groaned at the irony. Craving Alex's body, having it so close and yet being unwilling to cause him more pain was an exquisite agony. 

"Sorry, Alex. I thought I was still asleep," mumbled Mulder apologetically. 

"Uh huh. I couldn't get comfortable on the couch even with the pills. I thought—hoped— you wouldn't mind." 

"No, of course not. I'm..." Mulder paused and cleared his throat. "I'm glad you're here." 

"It's much better than the alternative, that's for sure." Alex sighed in the darkness and rubbed his fingers across Mulder's stomach. "I thought about you while I was gone. When things were particularly not good, I'd imagine you here in this cave you call home, watching videos and spanking the monkey to thoughts of me..." 

Mulder bit back a laugh at the accuracy of Alex's vision, and said, "Speaking of your out of— country?— trip..." 

"You don't wanna know." 

"Well, while you were _gone_ , how did you send me the packages?" 

"You liked those, did you?" 

"Yeah, how did you mail them? Were you in Baltimore all this time? That's what the postmark was." 

"No, I had a friend post them for me. Are you satisfied?" 

"A friend?" Mulder asked skeptically. 

Krycek's sigh sounded very tired as he said, "I do have friends, you know. Hardly anyone is totally alone in the world. Not even bad guys like me." 

"Sorry. 'A friend in Baltimore' seems like such a mundane concept for you. What kind of friend is this person? Male, female, casual, intimate?" 

"He's been a very good friend for a lot of years. And he's not involved in anything shady. He's just a regular guy." 

Mulder did laugh that time and asked, "What, is he an accountant or insurance salesman or something?" 

"Nope, he's in law enforcement, Nosey Man," replied Alex with a dopey grin. As his lashes slowly lowered, he muttered, "I think the pills are finally kicking in." 

"Okay, just go to sleep. It's late." Mulder pulled the covers up over Alex's naked shoulder with a lingering caress. 

"Fox... do you mind if I get a little closer? I'm still cold and you're so warm." 

"Sure, I'll be more careful this time," assured Mulder as he carefully pulled Alex into his arms, snuggling the heavier man against his chest. He stroked his back in a soothing rhythm, and fell asleep wondering what would happen next. 

* * *

Series: Bits & Pieces #7   
Rating: NC-17   
Date: February, 1999   
Disclaimer: The Boys and their Universe belong to CC, 1013, Fox, etc. I borrow them for love not money, and I get nothing in return except a cheap thrill and maybe some feedback . ;-) This Rat has two arms, but at least he doesn't have a tail and whiskers.   
Big thanks to my wonderful betas Nicole and Mouse. Thanks to Sue and Donna for their suggested bit— I hope I did it justice. Thanks for Deb for constant inspiration. Ratkisses and hugs to you all.   
Summary for archive: The Boys finally get together... in the same place. And all is bliss? It's not very likely.   
[email removed]   
---


	8. Full Contact

  
**Full Contact  
by Amy B**

  
Returning from his Saturday morning run to find unexpected company, Mulder removed his hooded sweatshirt then tossed it at the coat rack. He stood with his hands on his hips, damp t-shirted chest heaving as he asked, "Where the hell have you been? Do you have any idea what's been going on around here lately? Rebels, and aliens, and Spenders fucking everywhere!" 

"The Spenders were fucking? _Everywhere_?" laughed Alex Krycek. 

"You know what I meant. You can't swing a dead cat without hitting a Spender. Well, except Cassandra—she's nothing but a pile of burnt bones now. And Jeffrey—who's apparently missing..." Mulder pinned the man lounging on his couch with a suspicious glare. "What was your part in all this?" 

Alex raised an eyebrow and said, "What makes you think I had any part in anything?" 

"I'm really not in the mood for this cryptic nonsense. Where have you been?" 

"Here and there. There, mostly." When Mulder growled, Alex continued defensively, "I didn't come here to be interrogated, you know. There are plenty of other places I can go for that. The last week or so hasn't been any picnic for me either." 

"Last time I saw you, I was going off to work with the mistaken impression you'd still be here when I got home. That was weeks ago. Why did you come back here, now?" 

"Reasonable question. As you know, there are a good half dozen reasons for doing anything. The main one is that I wanted to see you, to make sure that you were all right." Alex smiled, and Mulder unwillingly felt the pull of his charm. "I heard you got the X-Files back, but I wanted to see you in person, just to be sure you came through the...conflict...with all your parts intact." 

"Any parts in particular?" Mulder felt himself flushing with a heat that had little to do with his recent exercise. 

"Why don't you come a little closer so I can do a full inspection?" Alex waggled his fingers at Mulder in a come-hither gesture. 

Mulder glanced down at his sweaty self and said, "I should go take a shower." 

"Later. Come over here first," commanded Krycek, looking cool and elegant in navy silk shirt and expensive trousers. 

Mulder found himself moving closer without consciously intending to do so. Like he did the last time Alex was here, Mulder sat down on the coffee table in front of the man on the couch. Their knees bumped together until Alex sat up straight and leaned forward. 

Staring at one of his obsessions, the subject of his dreams, Mulder was momentarily at a loss as to what to do or say. The man just came and went from apartment 42 as he damned well pleased. Mulder was tempted to offer him a key to save him the trouble of picking the locks. The suspicion that Alex would laugh in his face held him back. 

"Fox, we've been through a lot together, haven't we? A very brief partnership followed by a couple years of hit and run. Then there was our eventful trip to Russia. I almost lost an arm there. Did you know that?" 

Mulder shook his head, remembering the horror of having the truck driver offer to cut off his arm to save him from the tests. He felt sick when he thought of Alex being butchered like that. His reaction must have shown on his face because Alex smiled reassuringly. 

"Hey, after a few bloodcurdling screams, I talked my way out of it. That's what I do." 

"Yeah, like you talked yourself out of the test," Mulder reminded him, with a bitterness that Alex blithely ignored. 

"I am first and foremost a survivor, Fox. Never forget that. It can be a comfort to you, if you let it. If you can believe in it—in me—when it all goes to hell again. The last few days..." Krycek looked away from Mulder for the first time since he started speaking. Watching his hand as it came to rest on Mulder's knee, he continued quietly as if to himself. "The last few days were just dress rehearsal for the real conflict... the battle for this planet." 

Mulder started to ask the dozens of questions tumbling through his mind, but Alex looked up at him and smiled. Cursing himself for being easily distracted, Mulder put one hand over the one lying on his knee and asked Krycek what he wanted. 

"More than a peck on the cheek, that's for sure. That's what I gave you last time we discussed the coming war. So, what'll you give me? Hm?" 

"Excuse me? Don't you remember the last time you were here? Remember what I gave you? And what did I get in return? Nothing!" 

"Hey, I was injured and I had to leave in a hurry for your own good. I was going to pay you back." When Mulder looked at him askance, Alex insisted, "I really was, as soon as I was able." 

"Well then, why don't we start with this, then see where it goes?" Mulder leaned forward from the waist, bringing his face close to Alex's while keeping his body from making contact. This would be their first real kiss and he didn't want to rush it into something else. He kept his eyes open and focused on Alex's as he let his mouth drift slightly closer. Breathing in the warm cinnamon scented breath seemed a greater intimacy than sex, and Mulder enjoyed the feeling thoroughly before pressing closer. 

Smiling faintly, as thick black lashes swept over Alex's eyes in a subtle surrender, Mulder brushed his lips across his lover's over and over in teasing caresses. He was delighted to discover how soft and pliant Alex's mouth was, not at all what he expected. When Alex's lips parted slightly, Mulder accepted the invitation, deepening the kiss. 

Stroking the open mouth lightly with his tongue, Mulder savored the spicy flavor that was uniquely Alex. He licked deeper, over smooth sharp teeth to the sweet tongue thrusting against his. As they playfully dueled, Mulder brought his hands up to Alex's shoulders, pulling the other man closer, to the very edge of the sofa. The feel of Alex's strong thighs bracketing his own almost had Mulder dragging the other man to the floor for a good old-fashioned ravishment. 

But he resisted, instead bringing his hands up to either side of Alex's head. While he kissed Alex deeply, his fingers brushed over short silky hair and circled small ears. Mulder pulled back as an odd thought hit him. "You know something, Alex? You have cute ears." He swirled his fingers around the rims, dipping in to feel the delicate ridges. "Never expected to say that to a guy, but they are. They're just so small and pointy and... and—" 

"I swear Mulder, if you say 'elfin', I will hit you so hard you'll wish I had shot you instead." 

"No, no, they're very masculine. They're tough guy ears." 

"That's just silly, my little Pudding Pop," laughed Alex. "Kiss me again, so I'll know the first time wasn't a fluke." 

"Not a fluke. It's chemistry," muttered Mulder as he nibbled at Alex's mouth, sucking on his lower lip before plunging his tongue in to explore the wet heat. The tightening in his groin was getting unbearable as he leaned back and mused, "Maybe more than that." 

Alex laughed and said, "Nah, there's nothing else _but_ chemistry. Pheromones or something." 

"You don't believe we could have something beyond lust?" Mulder had to ask, although he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. 

"No, of course not." Alex tilted his head, considering. "Don't tell me you're having dreams of a Harlequin romance?" 

Mulder straightened his spine and snapped, "Don't be ridiculous. I just... I wondered... Never mind." He sighed and looked back at Alex with a slight smile. "Want to go to my bedroom? It'll be more comfortable than the couch." 

As the two men got up and headed for the other room, Alex remarked. "You know, Fox-don't-call-me-that... I never would have figured you for a waterbed. You don't seem the type." 

"I'm not. I have no idea where it came from. Just opened the door one day and there it was." Mulder shrugged, used to the bizarre by now. 

Alex chuckled under his breath. "That would only happen to you, Mulder. You're just a weird magnet. I love that." 

Mulder whipped his head around and asked incredulously, "What?" 

"I said a lot of weird stuff seems to happen to you," replied Alex, scratching at the side of his neck. The very picture of innocence blinked his lashes and said, "I believe I owe you something, don't I?" 

Before Mulder could reply, Krycek dropped to his knees and jerked down Mulder's running pants. Looking down as his painfully hard cock popped out to nod politely at the man who gave it its freedom, Mulder gasped at the hungry expression on Alex's face. If he hadn't been so excited himself, he would have worried about he'd gotten himself into. As it was, he was just eager to get further into it. 

Alex glanced up and flashed him a smile, saying, "Now that's a Pudding Pop!" as he grabbed the bobbing erection to hold it steady. 

A startled laugh escaped Mulder's constricted throat as he watched a pink tongue flick out and delicately lick the head of his cock. Alex lapped at the pre-come leaking from the slit, trying to dig in with the tip of his tongue. Mulder shifted his weight from foot to foot, causing Alex to grab his hip and push him back into the wall. Leaning forward to maintain contact, Alex continued to lick up and down Mulder's length, teasing and playing, never settling down to seriously bring him off. 

By the time he finally stretched his lips around the head and began to suck, Mulder was at the end of his control and started to pump his hips, thrusting into the hot mouth like he had fantasized so many times. Alex let go with a soft pop and grabbed Mulder's hips in a bruising grip. He gracefully rose to his feet, got right up in Mulder face and growled, "If you _ever_ try to fuck my mouth again, I will make you regret it. I don't give a fuck how excited you get, do not try that again." 

Mulder started to say something in his own defense, but was cut off by Alex's mouth devouring his. He felt like the first meal of a man who's been starved for months. Alex alternated chewing on his lower lip and exploring Mulder's mouth with his tongue. His forgotten cock wept at the loss of attention, but Mulder was unsure what Alex would do if he tried to rub against him to get some relief. So he pushed his butt back against the wall, and brought his hands up to Alex's head, caressing his pointed ears as he kissed him back fiercely. 

Alex pulled back just long enough to jerk Mulder's T-shirt off over his head. As Alex leaned back in for another soul stealing kiss, he tweaked a nipple, making Mulder acutely aware of his nakedness and Alex's fully dressed status. The brief flash of embarrassment was burned away by the incredible inferno of heat blazing between the two men. When Alex started to rub against Mulder in spite of the mess he was making of his elegant clothes, Mulder knew he wasn't going to last long. The feel of finally having Alex here in his arms, fully aroused against him was just too much. The steamy kisses and searing touches weren't doing much for his control either, instead they sent his blood pounding through his veins. 

Although he was a little wary after the last time, Mulder decided to take action again. He reached out with shaky fingers and unbuttoned Alex's shirt. When he met no resistance, he boldly moved on to the belted slacks. 

Now it seemed Alex was the one having trouble staying still. As Mulder opened up his lover's pants, Alex rubbed his hands all over Mulder's chest, rolling each nipple between his fingers and pulling on the sparse strands of hair. Alex's hips thrust forward into Mulder's hands as he tried to wrestle the trousers and silk boxers down while being kissed senseless. Jerking his head to one side so he could draw air into his straining lungs, Mulder moaned as Alex licked down his throat, latching onto Mulder's collarbone and sucking hard. Mulder knew it would leave a spectacular bruise, but right now all he could feel was the snap of the invisible inner wire that led straight to his cock. Each lunge of the younger man's hips against his brought him closer to the breaking point. 

Arching into his partner, Mulder groaned as Alex ducked his head to latch onto a nipple, biting and sucking, driving Mulder to grab onto Alex's ass and crush their hips together. He rubbed and thrust hard and fast until succumbing to a spectacular orgasm that weakened his knees and made his head fall back against the wall. He barely registered the thump as he struggled to open his eyes and look at Alex who was gnawing on his throat and frantically thrusting against his sensitized, depleted flesh. With a burst of energy he would have sworn he didn't possess, Mulder reversed their positions, dislodging Alex's mouth from his abused neck. 

Taking advantage of Alex's momentary disorientation, Mulder shoved the other man against the wall and dropped to the floor. He spared a curse for the bruises he could feel forming on his kneecaps then attacked the firm muscles of Alex's belly, biting and sucking. He lapped up the trails of his own come and Alex's pre-ejaculate and sweat, then grabbed Alex's cock in his mouth and got busy. Licking his own seed off of Alex's hot throbbing flesh was an intriguing experience, but they were both too far gone to appreciate the irony. Mulder stretched his lips around Alex's rather impressive erection and sucked down as much as he could. The rest he stroked with one hand while the other kept a firm grip on Alex's hip, preventing him from sliding to the floor. 

When Mulder felt Alex start to stiffen and swell even bigger in his mouth, he drew back until just the head was still gripped between his lips. As Alex bit back a scream, Mulder sucked frantically, trying to swallow all of Alex's strangely sweet essence. A little dribbled out the corners of his mouth and he licked it up after releasing Alex's spent flesh. 

Mulder looked up to find Alex watching him through narrowed eyes. He settled back on his heels and just watched his partner for a moment, cataloguing all the changes passion had wrought on his features. Lean cheeks flushed, sweaty chest heaving, delectable lips red and swollen, love bites coloring his lower belly... It was such an erotic sight, Mulder had to close his eyes and take a deep breath. 

A sniff made him open his eyes as Alex asked him seriously, "Are my ears bleeding?" 

"Nope," grinned Mulder. 

"Okay, just checking." Now it was Krycek's turn to close his eyes and draw a deep breath. Coughing a little he said, "Mulder, we need a shower. Now." 

"Yeah, then a nap," replied Mulder as he slowly got to his feet. 

* * *

After a short hot shower that was mostly uneventful, the two men stumbled into the bedroom, heading for their respective sides of the bed as if they did it everyday. 

Mulder jerked the sheet over his naked body, turned to his bed partner, and asked, "It's not even lunch time yet. Will you still be here when I wake up?" 

Alex snuggled his head into the pillow and mumbled, "There must have been some light that got through..." 

Mulder shook his head and said, "What?" 

"I... Nothing. Go to sleep, Snickerdoodle." 

"But will you still be here or not?" Mulder asked plaintively. 

"You want depth, shoulda checked your pockets," replied Alex cryptically. 

"What the hell does that mean?" 

"Maybe. It means _maybe_. Now I'm going to sleep. You wore me out." 

Fascinated, Mulder watched as he did just that. In seconds, his breathing was deep and even and his body was totally relaxed. 

Mulder was tired, but was almost afraid to go to sleep, afraid that Alex would disappear as soon as his eyes closed. It was the middle of a Saturday and he was in bed with an exhausted Alex Krycek. And _he_ was the cause of the exhaustion. He smiled and brushed a light hand over Alex's shoulder, watching his lover sleep until he too fell into a deep slumber. 

* * *

Special credit has to go to the Headstones and Hugh Dillon for "Cut" and "Digits" for Alex's cryptic remarks and my inspiration. 

Comments? Let me have 'em at [email removed] 

Rating: NC-17   
Date: March 1999   
Series: Bits & Pieces #8   
[email removed]   
Disclaimers: The Boys belong to CC, 1013, Fox etc. I just borrow them out of love and all I really get in return is a cheap thrill. ;)   
Notes: I'm actually trying to work with Canon for a change so this takes place right after Two Fathers/One Son. But my Alex still has both arms. Big thanks and Ratkisses to my wonderful betas Nicole and mouse.   
Summary: The Boys _finally_ get together. No, really. I mean it this time.   
Warnings: Mild spoilers for 2F/1S   
---


	9. Getting to Know You

  
**Getting to Know You  
by Amy B**

  
Mulder awoke to afternoon sun and an unusual warmth next to him. He rolled over and had to shake his head at the sight that greeted him. Alex Krycek was in his bed and sound asleep from the looks of it. Alex Krycek was in _his_ bed... naked. Alex, who didn't seem ever to relax his guard fully, even in sleep. 

Although he hoped it would become a more common occurrence, Mulder took advantage of the rare opportunity to study Alex without the force of his personality affecting his looks. Without the smirk, Alex's lips looked fuller and even sexier than usual. Mulder, with a peculiar bit of pride, gave their earlier kisses at least some of the credit, for the lush pinkness and faint surrounding whisker burn, if nothing else. Without expression, his face was surprisingly smooth. How could someone so dangerous look so untouched? Mulder would have thought those interesting little lines were more permanent, but he knew they would be one day, if Krycek managed to live long enough. 

Shaking off the potentially distressing thought, Mulder raised his attention up to the nose. That pointy little inconsequential nose certainly had a talent for sniffing out trouble or intruding into Mulder's business, a fact the agent had actually appreciated on a few occasions, not that he would ever admit it to the man sleeping beside him. 

He studied Alex's eyes next. Without being the focus of the intense stare that seemed to examine the depths of his soul, Mulder could objectively appreciate the long black lashes, thicker than any girl ever dreamed of. The arching brows that could convey so much with just a twitch were... 

Mulder's thoughts drifted away when those eyes opened suddenly and pinned him with an alert stare. One minute Alex was dead to the world, and the next, as if a switch had been flipped, he was awake and completely aware. 

"Hello," murmured Mulder as his appreciative gaze ran slowly down to where the sheet pooled at Alex's hips. 

Watching in bemusement as Alex jerked the sheet up to his neck, Mulder held back a laugh and said, "What have you got to be modest about? We've got all the same stuff, and yours looks really good." 

"It's not modesty exactly." 

"Well, what is it exactly?" asked Mulder as he tugged at the sheet. "Come on, let me see you." 

"It's just that I'm... and you're so... perfect." 

Mulder frowned as Alex let go of the sheet and continued quietly, "And I'm not." 

"I'm not either." Pulling the sheet from the unresisting grip, Mulder brushed his fingers lightly over a scar on Alex's side just below his ribs. "Where'd you get this one?" 

Alex turned his head away and said, "Hong Kong. It was just a flesh wound." 

"Small caliber gunshot?" The professional agent could speak clinically of such things, while the lover cringed inwardly at the very idea. 

Alex nodded and a muscle in his jaw jumped. 

Running one fingertip down the shiny pale pink scar on Alex's left shoulder, Mulder murmured, "And this one? Tunguska?" 

Again, Alex nodded silently, but Mulder saw his lower lip tremble before tightening and pressing against his teeth. 

Knowing he should stop, but feeling oddly compelled, Mulder glanced down the length of his new lover, moved his hand across a thigh, and said, "What about this? This was a knife, right?" 

"Bayonet." 

"What?" exclaimed Mulder, not sure whether to believe it. "Where would you get an injury from one of _those_?" 

"The Gulf." All but whispering, Alex glanced sharply at Mulder before his gaze skittered away to settle on some spot in the middle distance. 

"The Persian Gulf? _You_ were in the Gulf War?" Mulder was really struggling to keep his disbelief from showing. 

"No, the Redneck Riviera. Of course, I meant the _Persian_ Gulf, but it wasn't the war," sighed Krycek tiredly. 

"But why were you there? When was it? What..." 

"Look, I really don't want to talk about this, Sni— Mulder." Alex's voice sounded as if it were being pulled forcibly from his throat. "I couldn't tell you if I wanted to." 

"Shh, it's okay." Mulder wrapped his arms around the other man, burying his face in rumpled dark hair as he continued, "We don't— you don't have to. I was just curious about your life." 

"These scars are not my life. They're just damage... unpleasant reminders of some of the worst parts of it." 

"I don't know about that. They're proof of what all you've survived. How much strength you have. In warrior societies, scars earned in battle are badges of honor and looked upon with great favor." 

"Honor?" Krycek snorted. "What did honor ever get me? Doesn't keep you warm at night or feed you when you're hungry or hold you when you're hurt." 

Smiling sadly, Mulder placed tender kisses on each mark he had mentioned and several that he didn't bother to ask about. Returning to his place, he turned Alex's face back to him for a long wet kiss, then broke the mood by saying, "How can you taste so good after all the things you've done with your mouth lately?" 

"Like what... this?" asked Alex, diving under the sheets. 

"Ummm, oh, that. That's good," gasped Mulder, trying to grab onto a coherent thought. Alex's skills made coherency impossible. "Oh, yeah, that's very, very... um, good." 

Just as Mulder felt his orgasm gathering, Alex withdrew and popped out of the sheets like a demented prairie dog. 

"Hey, that reminds me. I've got something for you. It's in the living room. I'll be right back." Gloriously and unashamedly naked, Alex climbed out of bed and left the room. 

Resisting the temptation to finish himself off, Mulder cursed and gasped and tried to get his body under control in the brief moment allowed him. He was successful enough that when Alex returned with a fully packed overnight bag, he asked in his usual deadpan manner, "Feeling pretty sure of yourself?" 

"No, not at all," grinned Alex, setting the bag on the bed. "Just being a good little Boy Scout." 

"Yeah, sure, whatever." 

"I _was_ a Cub Scout for awhile. I got kicked out for inciting a riot." 

" _Cub_ Scouts? So you would have been about what... five or six?" 

"I was six and sick of Jamie Miller's mother's nasty oatmeal cookies. See, Trevor's mom would bring rice crispy treats, and Allen's mom made these homemade chocolate chip cookies. Everybody's mom brought something good except Jamie's. Her cookies were horrible. So I kind of got the other guys to protest and it got out of hand. But a Valium and a G&T and she was fine. I heard the next time it was her turn, she brought Oreos." 

"What did your mother make?" Mulder asked, curious if Alex would even answer something personal. 

"What else? Snickerdoodles," laughed Alex. "So I may not have made it to the Boy Scouts, but I am always prepared...or try to be." 

Unzipping his suitcase and rummaging inside, Alex pulled out a bottle, which he displayed as if it were a fine wine. Mulder read the label, "Hot Damn! Hot Cinnamon Schnapps Liqueur". Alex serenely suggested, "Maybe I was feeling sure of you." 

"Uh, oh. Guess I better work on that. We don't want to lose the mystery so soon." He took the bottle with a bemused smile, and said, "So what do you want to do with this stuff? Something really kinky, right?" 

"Well, I was thinking we could drink it, but, hey, kinky's good. The mystery is safe for awhile, Fox-don't-call-me-that." 

"I have shot glasses, but they're probably pretty dusty." Mulder reluctantly sat up and tossed back the sheet. "I'll go see—" 

"No, we don't need them just yet," muttered Alex, looking at Mulder's half-hard cock. "Lie back down for a minute." 

Mulder shivered and complied, stretching out on his back. The longer Alex just stood watching him, the harder he got. He dragged his gaze away from the tempting man beside the bed, and glanced up into the mirror, wondering once again where it had come from. He watched as Alex knelt on the bed and bent over his chest. The cool liqueur dribbling over his heated skin was pleasant enough, but the hot tongue that licked it off his nipples had him biting his lip to stifle a moan. And when the mouth closing over his dribbled a trail of liquid fire down his throat he did moan—loudly. Alex pulled back and grinned at him. Mulder gasped, "What the hell—" 

"Take a deep breath, Snickerdoodle," suggested Alex, taking a swig of the liqueur and demonstrating. Inhaling deeply caused the cinnamon flavor to burst through Mulder's mouth, lessening the burn on his tongue while intensifying it in his throat. It was quite enjoyable, so Mulder grabbed the bottle for another hit. The alcohol hitting his stomach was a warm wave washing through his middle, accompanied by the sharper jags of sensation caused by Alex's mouth, filled again with the drink, engulfing his cock. 

He reached out to stroke Alex's hair, his back, a thigh, anything he could reach. The extra wet heat of Alex's mouth had him writhing, desperate to thrust, but afraid that Alex would stop if he did. He held his hips as still as he could and wondered if he was supposed to feel anything special from the liqueur on his cock. The look on Alex's face as he pulled away and drew in a gusty breath suggested he had certainly gotten something exceptional from the experience. 

Mulder tilted his head back and watched in the mirror as Alex moved between his legs, took another sip then went down on Mulder again. This time he didn't stop to breathe, just sucked and licked until Mulder came screaming into the pillow hastily shoved over his face. Vaguely aware of Alex licking him clean then moving up beside him, Mulder opened his mouth at the whispered command and drank down more of the burning pale red liquid, shuddering lightly as it seared his throat. He licked the faintly sweet taste off his lips and whispered roughly, "That was incredible. Where'd you— no, I don't want to know. Thank you. I'll... uh, return the favor as soon as I get the strength to move." 

"That's fine. I can wait. We'll just keep drinking, and since neither of us have eaten all day, getting a nice little buzz shouldn't take too long. You're all right, Fox." 

"-don't-call-me-that," completed Mulder with a giddy laugh from the orgasm and the alcohol on the aforementioned empty stomach. 

"You could have been really fucked up from all the weird stuff that's happened to and around you, but you're not...really." He passed the bottle to Mulder. "You seem to cope, unless you're saving it all up to take into the clock tower along with a sniper rifle." He took the offered bottle, did the drink-and-breathe, then passed it back to Mulder. "If that's the case, just tell me when and I'll get you a good deal. Seriously though, you're fun when you're not hitting me. I like you, so, even though it is _so_ much fun, maybe I won't try to fuck with your head quite as much anymore." 

"Why should you when you can fuck with my body instead?" Mulder laughed again. 

"Excellent point, my friend. And I'm going to do just that... in a little while." 

"No, no, it's my turn to do you next." Mulder sipped delicately from the bottle, running his tongue provocatively around the rim. He took another drink, then sucked a few inches of the bottle into his mouth, watching Alex through lowered lashes the whole time. He was delighted to notice that Alex's eyes were glued to his lips sliding along the cool brown glass. He let the bottle slide slowly from his lips with a soft pop, then offered it with as innocent a smile as he could manage. 

Alex groaned and took the bottle and several fast swallows, gasping for breath as tears sprang to his eyes giving them a crystalline sheen. Mulder rolled closer and covered those wet pink lips with his own, lapping at the liquor and nipping and sucking Alex's kiss-bruised lower lip between his teeth. They kissed until they were both breathless, and Mulder lay back against his pillow. 

He looked up at their reflections in the mirror above his bed, happy for the moment to just _be_. He gave Alex a soft little smile, sharing the contented feeling. He was vaguely surprised to get a narrow, contemplative look in return. He settled back with a sigh and waited for Alex to say whatever was on his mind. 

"Mulder, this is going to sound disgustingly sappy— I shouldn't even be telling you this..." Alex drew a deep breath and, with intoxicated precision, said, "For the last four, five years, you have been my light. The thing beyond survival that kept me focused through all the weird and difficult times. Sometimes the thought of you was the only light that got through." 

Mulder's throat tightened and he cleared it to speak, but Krycek wasn't finished. 

"Just so you know, this is no declaration of unending devotion born of love at first sight. Sometimes it was jealousy or anger or a desire for revenge that kept me going." 

Mulder filed away the remark about jealousy for further analysis then grinned and said, "If you keep telling me how much you _don't_ love me, I'm liable to get my heart broken. Your protests are sounding pretty weak there, Sparky." 

"What? Nuh uh. I don't know what you're talking about and I certainly don't—" 

"Yes, you do." Mulder laughed in Alex's face, delighted at the cornered look in his eyes. 

"No, I don't." 

"Oh, yes, Alexei-Alexander-Sparky-Krycek, you do." 

"No I don't. You're drunk." 

"So are you and yes you do." 

Alex straightened himself up against the pillows and said belligerently, "Yeah, so maybe I do love you, so the fuck what?" 

"I have something—" Mulder turned to open the drawer of his nightstand. "-that you may recognize." He drew out the velvet glove that Alex had sent him and turned to dangle it in front of his startled lover's face. 

"What— That's all you have to say?" 

"Yes. For the moment. Did you really want to get into a discussion about feelings?" 

Alex shuddered and said, "I'd rather have a tooth pulled than talk about feelings." 

"That's what I thought. Take this." He dropped the glove on Alex's chest with an anticipatory smirk. "You know what to do." 

"What?" Alex stared back with a confused look in his eyes. Mulder raised an eyebrow and watched as comprehension slowly dawned on the fine features. 

"Yep. Exactly what you meant for me to do with it," Mulder confirmed the other man's suspicions. 

"You said you'd do me next." 

"I want to see you do yourself. Just do what you were doing those times we talked on the phone and the night you came to my car. Or should I say, the night you came _in_ my car? You remember that, don't you?" 

Alex broke into a leering grin and nodded. "Oh, yeah. That was fun. I saw your cock and knew I was going to get my mouth on it sooner or later." 

"And so you did. But right now, let's have some more of that fun. Show me your technique." 

"Aren't you going to...?" 

"No, I already came. Besides, you _know_ I like to watch. Put the glove on, Alex," ordered Mulder softly. 

"When did you get so bossy? I thought _I_ was in charge of this relationship." Alex complained, but he followed the orders without argument. Mulder watched avidly as Alex wiggled those long elegant fingers into the soft black velvet. He'd always gotten a secret thrill watching Alex's strong expressive hands, and now he would see them pleasuring his body in ways Mulder had only imagined. 

Alex grinned and suggested he look in the bed's mirror for a better view. Lying back on the pillows, Mulder happily complied. He had a complete view of Alex this way, from his almost-black hair sticking up in a cowlick over his left eye down to his pale little toes sticking out of the crumpled sheets. 

Mulder's gaze followed Alex's hands in the mirror, the distance and reversed perspective giving the actions a dreamy feeling of unreality, as did the contrast of the dark gloved hand moving over the winter pale skin of Alex's torso. The small brown nipples rose eagerly into the velvet touch. The bare left hand brushed lightly over his thigh edging ever closer to the erection straining for a touch, any touch that would bring relief. 

Mouth open in a sympathetic gasp, Mulder licked his lips as he watched the velvet fingertips stroke slowly over Alex's stomach to dart lightly from cock to balls and back again in teasing touches. After interminable minutes, the taunting fingers wrapped around Alex's rampant erection, and his groan was almost drowned out by Mulder's. 

Mulder was surprised to find his cock filling anew, and moved one hand to stroke it, idly at first then more deliberately as Alex brought his bare hand over to take Mulder's free one. Gasping and almost laughing at times, the two men watched in the mirror as they held hands and jerked off. The beautiful sight and heart-rending sounds of Alex's orgasm sent Mulder right over the same jagged edge. 

Alex languidly waved the gloved hand at Mulder, who said, "You are going to get that cleaned, aren't you?" 

"I didn't come on it." Alex motioned at his belly. 

"Oh. Well, I can take care of that for you," offered Mulder generously, rolling over to lick at the semen trails. When Alex let out a lush sigh, he smiled against the damp skin, then nipped at Alex's belly button, causing the other man to squirm under him. 

"This is all very decadent, Fox-don't-call-me-that. Do you often spend entire Saturdays in bed?" 

Mulder snorted and said, "I thought you knew _everything_ about me." 

"Truthfully? Not quite as much as I'd like to know, but possibly more than I should." Alex shrugged and continued before Fox could question him. "I'm starving. Think we could get someone to deliver right to the bed, so we wouldn't even have to answer the door?" 

"No. But I might be persuaded to make the supreme sacrifice of dressing to get up and pay the delivery person." 

"I hear an 'if' in your voice..." 

"If you'll tell me more... about being a Cub Scout." 

"You want to hear about a bunch of six-year olds in matching uniforms doing arts and crafts? You are so weird Mulder, but, lucky for you, I like that in a guy." 

"Oh, yeah, I— I feel real lucky right now. I'll pay for dinner if you'll tell me another thing." 

"What now? The fourth grade spelling bee? My senior prom?" Alex laughed. 

"Polo on Fridays." 

"All right. Over dinner." 

Half an hour later, the two men sat hunched over Mulder's table, scarfing down mu shu pork, five flavored vegetables, cashew chicken, and fried rice, as if they never expected to have food ever available again. In between eating and gulping down bottled water, Alex told Mulder some of what he wanted to hear about his childhood, or at least what he was brave enough to ask. 

Finally Alex pushed his plate away and said, "When I was a young agent—" 

"FBI, KBG, or something else entirely?" Mulder asked, only half joking. 

Alex shot him a quelling look and said, "When I was a young _FBI_ agent, I knew a guy. We had a standing date every Thursday night, and I would spend the night at his place. He wore Polo." 

"So you would borrow his cologne on Friday morning as you got ready for work?" 

"Yeah. That's all there was to it. Are you disappointed?" 

"No, I don't believe so. Who was this guy what was he like?" 

"He was quiet— a good guy, very smart. He was about 6' 1", had medium brown hair and hazel eyes. He had a swimmer's build, or maybe a runner's. He liked to do both. Not really traditionally handsome, I thought he was gorgeous anyway." Alex smiled softly at the tabletop and said, "He treated me well, even though he knew I couldn't love him. We had fun together." 

"So what happened?" 

"Well, when I had to leave town rather suddenly, we broke it off. It was as amiable a breakup as the entire relationship had been. I heard that he got married a few months later. I hope he's happy." 

"That's generous of you." 

"You don't have to sound so damned surprised. I have my moments. They're extremely rare, but I've got 'em." 

"Yeah, I guess even the most hardened criminal can have moments of nobility." 

Alex's head tilted and his eyes narrowed as he exclaimed, "Hey! I'm _not_ a—" 

"I know," Mulder interrupted. "I was just kidding. I think you may have a lot more nobility than you would like people to know about." 

"Yeah, I'm a noble savage all right, but let's keep it between us, okay? I have an image to maintain." 

"Oh, James Dean or James Bond?" 

"Why can't I be both?" 

Mulder laughed and said, "Okay, Jimmy. What do you want to do now?" 

Alex gave him a look that seemed to question his intelligence. "Go back to bed, of course. What did you want to do, play Scrabble or something?" 

"It wouldn't really be fair to you because foreign and swear words aren't allowed." Mulder sighed and shrugged dramatically. "I guess that leaves going back to bed." 

"I'm going to ignore that insult for now, but you _will_ make it up to me later." 

* * *

The next time Mulder awoke, cool morning sunlight illuminated the empty bed. The nightstand was strewn with crushed sticky tissues, an empty liqueur bottle, and a couple of scrunched up gloves. He got up and slipped on a pair of jeans he found crumpled halfway under the bed. After checking the bathroom and kitchen, he wandered into the living room, but found it as empty as the bed had been. Alex had gone, and there was no trace of his presence anywhere in the apartment except for the bedroom. Mulder shook his head and almost laughed at what _that_ said about their budding relationship. 

Opening the door, he bent down to pick up the Sunday newspaper and felt something poke his thigh from inside his pants. He straightened up and stuck his hand into his pocket. Deep in the very bottom, his fingers wrapped around a small metal object. He pulled out a silvery key, an ordinary key that might open a door or a deadbolt. Mulder had never seen it before, knew it wasn't his, and wondered exactly when he'd worn these jeans last.... He returned it to his pocket for the time being. 

Glancing over the front page, he went to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, then went into the living room to wait for it to finish brewing. He tossed the paper on the coffee table and turned on the computer to check his e-mail. He read through an interesting thread on the UFO abductees' list on his Yahoo account, and deleted some of the porn offers on his Juno account, keeping the more interesting ones. 

After fixing a cup of coffee, he checked his official mailbox. He scrolled quickly through the in-box, but found nothing urgent so he started back at the top of the list. Taking a sip of the steaming coffee and hoping to get the energy to go for a run, he glanced at the side of the computer screen. He knew something was different from usual, but couldn't quite place it. He read through a couple more messages, then looked at the folder list again. He noticed his Drafts folder had an unread message in it, and that's what was bothering him. He hadn't left anything in there. He opened the folder and read the message. He smiled at Alex's sneakiness, even though he was irritated that his spyboy lover had been hacking around in his computer. Why couldn't he have left a note on the pillow like a normal person? 

Although it had been instantly immortalized in his memory, he reread the message, taking out the key again and turning it over in his fingers as he did so. Alex gave him a week to find him and use the key, but Mulder gave himself two days, three tops. 

The hunt was on, and Mulder could already smell victory. He drained his coffee and went to put on his running clothes. He suddenly felt very energized. 

Mulder was sure this was going to be a very interesting week. 

The End

* * *

Series: Bits & Pieces #9   
Rating: NC-17   
Feedback greatly appreciated (and answered) at [email removed]   
Disclaimer: The Boys belong to CC, 1013, Fox, etc. I make no profit from this little venture.   
Warnings: Alex has two arms, but other than that... I can't think of any. Oh yes, don't try this at home. Only fictional characters should get drunk on this stuff.   
Spoilers: None really.   
Notes: Thanks to Nicole and mouse for stupendous beta. Mistakes remain my own. It was Beckie who got the Boys drunk. I had nothing to do with it. It was all her fault. She had no idea what seeds of destruction were planted with just that little bit of information. She'll know better next time not to tell me these things, informative though they may be.   
Summary: A same day continuation of #8. Mulder learns a bit more about his new lover.   
---


	10. His Kiss

  
**His Kiss  
by Amy B**

  
Fox Mulder stood in front of a door. It was a standard steel over wood door, painted white with the number 201 in plain brass numbers over the peephole. As doors go, it was nondescript. In fact, the whole brick apartment building was nondescript. There was nothing special or remarkable about the street or the smallish Maryland town halfway between Baltimore and D.C., either. Nondescript. Camouflage. The perfect place for a man like Alex Krycek to hide. 

Alex had given Mulder a week to find him, but it had only taken him three days, wouldn't have taken that long except that he'd had to make a quick trip out of town to clear up some loose ends on a case. Once he'd gotten Alex's telephone number from his own phone records, the address was easy enough to track down. Just to be difficult, Mulder had waited another two days to come here. It was also very convenient that he'd come on Friday night, and he didn't have to work the next day. 

Mulder raised his hand to knock then lowered it again, assailed by doubts from all sides. He was unsure if going forward was really the best thing for either of them. It couldn't possibly help his career any to get involved with a man who had done the things that Krycek had been accused of or suspected of doing. Mulder was even more worried about the things Krycek had done that they _didn't_ suspect him of— the things he'd gotten away with doing. And then there were those crimes Krycek claimed not to have committed. Mulder wanted to believe him, but the man had told the truth so selectively that his credibility was strained, to say the least. 

Remembering the key that Alex had left for him, Mulder pulled it from his pocket and turned it over in his fingers. Why was he balking now? He'd let Alex into his home and into his bed. Why was it so hard for him to just put the key in the lock and turn it? He sighed and stuck his hand back in his pocket, key still gripped tightly between his fingers. He had to wonder just how he'd gotten to this point of indecision that was really unlike him. On Sunday morning, it had seemed a simple plan— find Alex, fuck Alex, let Alex fuck him— lather, rinse, repeat. What could be simpler? Maybe it was too simple? The man had challenged Mulder to find him yet made it pathetically easy to do so, and _that_ was a puzzle in itself. As far as mindfuckery went, this one didn't even rate an honorable mention. So why did he even bother? 

A door down the hall opened, and a young woman came storming out into the hall followed by a wave of shouted curses from a masculine voice that sounded more petulant than dangerous. Raising his hand as if he were about to knock, Mulder gave her a slight smile, but the woman just snarled at him as she stalked past. He watched her until she had disappeared into the elevator, then returned his hand to his pocket. After checking out the other apartments for open doors or any other activity, he returned to his blind contemplation of the door in front of him. 

Alex Krycek could be behind that door... or not. Mulder suddenly felt like he was stuck in an episode of "Let's Make a Deal", and half his brain was urging him to pick door number one and the other was screaming for him to choose the box. If he chose the freedom of getting back on the elevator and going home, he might be losing a fabulous prize. Choosing the door, on the other hand, may be a mistake from which he'd never recover. What did he expect from this relationship? A house with a white picket fence and Alex playing Mr. Mom to their adopted war orphan children? Not _even_ if hell froze over. Mulder suppressed a shudder, although the thought of Alex in a frilly apron scrubbing the kitchen floor sent a surprising thrill of lust through him. Maybe not so surprising since in Mulder's mind the apron was _all_ Alex wore and he was on his knees with the scrubbing motions doing lovely and interesting things to the long muscles of his back and the round tautness of his... 

Shaking off the distracting image, Mulder adjusted his jeans over his rising erection and tried to think of something less arousing— like what could happen if his relationship with Alex was found out. While he didn't think it would actually get him killed, he couldn't be so sure of Alex's safety. In one of their recent conversations, Alex had implied that he was quite high up in whatever remained of the organization now, but Mulder had to wonder just how much actual power the other man had. 

The thought of Alex's "job" led his thoughts back to his own career, if his crusade could be called a career anymore. It's not like he had much use for the FBI as anything more than a means to an end. And they certainly didn't have much use for him either, a fact to which he had grown accustomed and most of the time appreciated. When they left him alone, he could go on about his business without all the B.S. of bureau politics. He was not really interested in rising through the ranks. _Just leave me in the basement doing my thing in relative peace._

"This is ridiculous," Mulder muttered under his breath. He had to _do_ something, instead of just standing here staring at a door that wasn't giving up any secrets. He raised his hand slowly to knock, and then decided to take Alex up on his offer. Taking his gun from the holster clipped into the back of his jeans, he slipped the key into the deadbolt and turned it with a barely audible click. The doorknob turned easily under his hand, and he shook his head in dismay. He'd expected it to be much more difficult than this. His nerves were singing with tension and warning. He gripped the gun tightly and held his body off to one side as he pushed the door open. Nothing happened, so he chanced a look around the frame. The door opened directly into the living room, which seemed deserted. 

After listening intently for a few minutes, Mulder determined that the apartment was probably as empty as it seemed, so he went inside and shut the door. The living room was spacious and very neat. One wall held a wide entertainment center with a variety of electronics—stereo, TV, a couple of VCRs, DVD player, and what appeared to be video editing equipment. One shelf held several movies of different genres, and two other shelves were filled with videotapes that had only a number or were unlabeled altogether. The opposite wall held an overstuffed sofa of creamy leather that made Mulder's own couch look like a garage sale reject. The third wall had a large window covered in both mini-blinds and snowy white draperies and flanked by tall, matching wood bookcases. 

In the corner between the sofa and one of the bookcases, sat a large easy chair in gold crushed velvet under a floor lamp tilted at the perfect angle for reading. Resembling something one might find in a brothel, the chair should have looked tacky, but for some reason didn't. It fit in with the rest of the room, and spoke strongly of Alex's love of creature comforts as did the plush charcoal carpet, so soft and thick that Mulder's toes curled inside his sneakers, silently begging to be released. He shook his head and wandered into the dining alcove which held only a computer desk and chair. The desk seemed to hold every peripheral known to man, and a few that he'd only seen in the Lone Gunmen's lair. 

The kitchen was next and it looked like most other apartment kitchens. All the surfaces were very clean, even the kitchen table. There were no piles of junk mail or unpaid bills lying around. There were no knick-knacks of any kind sitting out, not even a salt shaker. The room had a complete lack of personality, which puzzled Mulder until he walked down the short hall and into the bedroom. 

Stopping in the doorway, Mulder stared into the room and every rational thought fled his mind. The brass bed was huge, a rippling cerulean ocean piled with pillows in a series of shades from palest sky blue to deepest indigo. The dresser and two nightstands were antique walnut that gleamed as if from a fresh waxing. He poked through a few randomly chosen drawers, finding the usual stuff in the dresser. In the nightstand, he found a box of condoms, two bottles of lubricant, and a Les Baer .45 that was worth roughly three times more than his Sig. 

Behind the same white draperies as those in the living room, French doors opened onto a small balcony. Mulder checked out the view from the windows— a small duck pond and another apartment building identical to this one. 

On the wall opposite the French doors, double doors opened to reveal a closet half full of clothes ranging from a very expensive designer tuxedo to some scruffy army fatigues with no insignia. Mulder felt sure that if he searched through the boxes on the top shelf he'd find a wealth of insignia of different nationalities and ranks. The rows of shoes and boots on the floor also ran the gamut of fashion and function—the most intriguing being a pair of size thirteen spike heeled pumps in 'fuck me' red. Mulder took note of those for future reference, then replaced them in their box and went back out into the hallway. 

Checking out the bathroom, which was as clean and impersonal as the rest of the place, he decided to use the facilities before trying to hack into Krycek's computer. He'd washed his hands and was drying them on a sinfully fluffy white towel, when he heard the front door open almost soundlessly. 

He stepped into the hall in time to see Alex slink into the apartment carrying a couple of plastic grocery bags in one hand and a compact Glock nine millimeter in the other. 

Tucking the gun back into his shoulder holster, Alex smiled and said, "Hey, Mulder. What took you so long?" 

Mulder moved closer and tried to pretend he was caught in other people's homes everyday. "Oh, well, I've been busy. You know, same old-same old. Where've you been?" 

Alex held up the bags and stated the obvious, "Shopping." 

Mulder chuckled, more from nervousness than amusement. "Surely Alex Krycek doesn't do anything as mundane as shopping." 

"He does if he needs groceries." Alex hung up his jacket and headed for the kitchen. 

Mulder followed close behind, noting that Alex looked really good dressed so casually. His well-worn jeans did nice things for his long legs and firm ass, and the faded black T-shirt made him look younger and almost carefree, until Mulder really looked at the shirt. It read "HARD CORE LOGO"—an advertisement for a rock group or a movie, Mulder figured. The interesting thing was how the "A" was printed in blood red and circled, reminding him of a target in the middle of Alex's chest. He wondered if that's why Alex wore it—as a challenging "fuck you" to his enemies. The man was just contrary enough to do it. 

Watching in silence as Alex put his groceries away while humming tunelessly under his breath, Mulder wanted to say something—anything to break the awful tension that seemed to grow with every tick of the clock. He didn't know what to say, because just being in Alex's home was odd and overwhelming enough. 

"So... what have you been up to this week?" 

"Which version of the truth do you want? The one I give the IRS on my tax returns?" 

"Yeah, right, like you actually pay taxes." 

"Fox, they brought down _Al Capone_. Even I won't fuck with the IRS." Pulling a bottle of vodka out of the freezer, he turned and asked "Would you like a drink?" 

"Do I need one?" Mulder bit back a smile as he asked the question. 

"I dunno." Alex took a couple of crystal highball glasses out of a cabinet and glanced over his shoulder. "You're not going to try to arrest me, are you?" 

"No, no outstanding warrants. I checked." Mulder did smile then. He couldn't believe the little bubble of happiness that settled in his chest. Where had _that_ come from? "But I'm interested in what you tell the IRS." 

Motioning Mulder to take a seat at the table, Alex poured their drinks and sat down himself. He took a long sip and explained, "To the Internal Revenue Service, I'm a freelance computer consultant. System troubleshooter, webpage builder—I do a little of everything and I have receipts and documentation for all of it. Now if on occasion, my consulting takes me into a dangerous situation which requires that I discharge my weapon into a certain individual's head a few times, well, the IRS doesn't really need to know about that, do they? And neither does the FBI and it didn't happen anyway." 

Mulder took a sip of the icy cold vodka, noting the twinkle in Alex's eyes as he tilted his glass and slammed the liquor back. "And who did this not happen to?" 

"Some prick named Dexter. It was nothing. It didn't happen. Who names their kid Dexter anyway?" 

"I'm in no position to judge anyone's name." Mulder finished his drink and held out his glass for a refill. He felt like he'd probably need it. 

"I don't get that either. Fox is a perfectly good name. It suits you in a way. Foxes are cunning creatures. They can survive almost anywhere— did you know that? Even in the middle of the city. They're also sleek, beautiful animals." 

"Shut up." Mulder turned his head and rubbed his fingers over his mouth. He could still taste Alex's kiss, had thought about it at the most inopportune moments. Poor Scully had probably thought he was having a stroke when she'd caught him staring into space, not hearing a word she said. He did that occasionally when he was turning a problem over in his mind, but not for such an extended period when they didn't have a particularly pressing case in front of them. 

Concentrating on the minutiae of everyday life was becoming increasingly difficult when the memories of such inappropriate actions filled his mind. He had no business getting involved with Alex Krycek, but no matter how many times he told himself that, the warnings didn't take. He was here in the man's apartment and that signaled involvement to Mulder— or insanity. He wasn't quite ready to give up the insanity defense entirely. 

Then, of course, there was his kiss. Alex turned him inside out with just one kiss, whether soft and shallow or deep and intense. The warmth of silky lips pressed against his, the firm-soft tongue stroking gently or frantically, the reckless scrape of sharp, straight teeth. Mulder even enjoyed the faint scratch of late night whiskers. 

For the last three nights, he had dreamed of tender hands cupping his face, holding him in place for a soul-stealing kiss. A kiss that, cliched as it may sound, he could feel all the way to his toes. He dreamed of long wet kisses that lasted for days and made him come from the force of them alone. He'd woken from the dreams on the verge of orgasm, and just a single masturbatory moment left him gasping and wrecked, unable to go back to sleep despite the physical release. 

Now here he was in the lion's den, ground zero, point of no return... Alex's apartment. Realizing he'd been silent for several minutes, he glanced across the table at Alex, whose eyes sparkled with amusement as he lifted his refilled glass for a drink. Mulder ignored the glint of humor and focused on the lips slightly pursing against the rim of the glass, the hint of pink tongue darting out to catch a preliminary taste of the clear liquor. As warmth suffused him, Mulder wondered if Alex did it on purpose, this sensual teasing that seemed so effortless. _Of course, he does. Every move is calculated for maximum effect._ Mulder thought suddenly, half amused and half angry, at both Alex's manipulation and his own susceptibility to the other man's machinations. 

The anger was easier to squash than it used to be. All Mulder had to do was look into the unexpectedly open expression on that handsome face and the anger drained away— with lust and guilt taking its place. The guilt fit like a well-worn sweater, barely even noticeable except for the ease with which it settled over his shoulders. The lust, on the other hand, would not be so easily ignored, and that was fine because Alex was here and ready to return the feeling. 

"So... We gonna sit here and stare at each other all night?" 

"I could do it," Mulder muttered with a slight smile. 

Alex laughed out loud, and said, "You must be drunk or really, really bored." 

"Nope, neither." 

"You're gonna make me blush, Fox-don't-call-me-that." 

"I'd rather make you scream." 

"Think you can?" 

"I'd like to give it a try." 

"What would you do? How would you make me scream?" 

"Well... I could always hit you— that's always good for a squeal at the very least." 

"I don't _squeal_ — a manly grunt perhaps... Anyway, I thought you were over that, thought we were past it." 

"Yeah, you're right, and I'd hate to get blood on such a nice carpet." 

"Got any other ideas?" 

Mulder nodded as he stood and circled the table. Alex shoved his chair back but before he could stand, Mulder planted a hand in the middle of his chest to hold him down. Spreading his legs wide, Mulder straddled the chair and lowered himself onto Alex's lap, bringing his mouth down to Alex's surprised smile. 

Threading his fingers through Alex's silky hair, Mulder licked around the edges of that smile before parting Alex's lips with his own and kissing him slowly and deeply. As Alex began to kiss back, Mulder felt that peculiar twisting feeling deep in his gut that was becoming so familiar to him in the presence of this man. It felt as if he was being rearranged from the inside out and nothing would ever be the same again. The sensation bordered on painful, but there was also a feeling that however he ended up would be how he was meant to be. And yet, he couldn't see any happy endings for Alex and him. 

If this relationship were to continue, he'd have to learn to live in the moment. He could do that. If Alex kept kissing him like this, he could do it very easily. 

His body burning for more contact, Mulder settled his butt back onto Alex's thighs and worked his hands in between their bodies, unbuttoning the fly of Alex's tight blue jeans. He pushed the T-shirt up with the tips of his fingers, skimming over the flat belly. _Mmm, look who's been working out._ He thought, but didn't pull his mouth off of Alex's long enough to comment, as his fingers continued their journey over the pectorals to tweak the firm little nipples. He gave them a squeeze, evoking a startled groan from the back of Alex's throat. 

Alex let go of Mulder's mouth, nipping at his chin as he curved his hands around Mulder's ass, pulling their erections together to bump and grind in a heated dance. Mulder moaned and shoved the T-shirt higher until it got hung up on the shoulder holster that Alex hadn't removed. Hips bucking into Alex's, Mulder stripped the holster and shirt off, absently dumping them on the table as he captured Alex's mouth for another kiss. 

Mulder had just taken Alex's heated erection from his underwear and was beginning to stroke it when the telephone rang. He wrenched his mouth from Alex's and said, "Ignore it." 

"I'd love to, but I can't..." Alex groaned as Mulder bit into his neck, but he lifted the other man from his lap anyway. Leaning against the kitchen counter, cock jutting from his open jeans, Alex answered the insistent ring rather breathlessly, "Yes? Oh, hey, Cam." 

With an evil grin, Mulder dropped to his knees and pulled Alex's pants all the way down. Holding the base of Alex's cock with caressing fingers, he placed his lips against the tip and gently sucked it into his mouth. 

"Fuck! Um, yeah, I meant to call, but I've...mm... been busy. You know how it is... Um, could you hold on a minute?" Alex put his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone and hissed, "Stop it, Fox." 

Nodding his head, Mulder slid his lips along Alex's shaft then pulled off with a soft pop. Petting Alex's wet swollen cock soothingly, Mulder waited until his lover had turned his attention back to his phone call. 

"No, I'm okay. I just got a little distracted. What were you saying?" Alex listened for a moment, and then laughed, "Yeah, that's good." 

Mulder leaned in and swallowed Alex to the root, surprising a yelp out of him. He sucked hard on the throbbing flesh, hands wrapped around Alex's hips, fingers digging into the curves of his ass. Mulder worked him until Alex was nearly incoherent, the phone slipping from his hand to land on the counter with a thud. 

"Fffff-Fox!" 

Mulder pulled back far enough to ask, "Want me to stop?" 

"Hell, no!" Alex's eyes slipped closed as he grappled for the phone, finally dragging it up to his face and gasping, "Cam, I'll have to call you back." He fumbled the phone back into its base and put his hands on Mulder's head, rough fingers raking through his hair none too gently, urging him to finish what he'd started. 

Shaking Alex's hands loose, Mulder settled back and conversationally asked, "Who was on the phone?" 

"What?" Alex shook his head as if trying to catch up. "It was a friend— no big deal. He'll understand. Now, get back to what you were doing." 

"He'll _understand_? You're going to tell him why you couldn't talk?" Mulder didn't know whether to believe it or not, but he thought Alex probably would do it. 

"Maybe. Now finish what you started." Alex was sweating and he had a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the counters. His blood-flushed cock shone with pre-ejaculate and Mulder's saliva, creating a very pretty picture to Mulder's eye. 

Raising one eyebrow in challenge, Mulder said, "Beg." 

"What?" Alex stared at him as if he had suddenly sprouted horns. "You're the one on his knees, buddy, not me." 

Before the other man could lock them, Mulder grinned and grabbed Alex's knees, pulling abruptly to bring him to the floor. Because of Mulder's position in front of him and the cabinets behind him, Alex ended up with his feet sticking out at awkward angles and the front of his body plastered to the front of Mulder's. Nipping sharply at Alex's lower lip, Mulder looked into eyes dark with passion and wide with confusion, saying once again, "Beg. Beg me to suck you off, Alex." 

"Fox... _Mulder_... would...youpleasesuckmeoff?" 

"Come on, you can do better than that." Mulder held back a laugh, feeling a little cruel but enjoying it immensely. He slipped his hand between their bodies and briefly stroked Alex's erection to give him added incentive. 

Mulder could hear Alex swallow hard as his eyes closed, then they opened and he said slowly and precisely, "Fox, please suck me off. I want to feel your sexy lips around my cock, and your hot wet tongue licking me until I come down your beautiful throat. Please?" 

"You want all that, huh?" Mulder gave Alex's cock a slow stroke from base to head. 

"I want it." Alex caught Mulder in a hard kiss. "I want it bad. Suck me." 

"Okay, but not here. Let's go to your bedroom." Mulder slowly rose to his feet, wincing at the creaking in his knees. "Really, Alex, we're much too old to be playing on hard kitchen floors. What were you thinking?" 

Alex snorted and rolled his eyes as he got to his feet, holding his jeans up with one hand. He walked out of his kitchen without a backward look. 

After a moment, Mulder followed, heart pounding in anticipation. He stepped into Alex's room to find the covers folded back neatly, and Alex seated on the side of the bed removing his boots and socks. He looked so beautiful and unconcernedly sexy that Mulder stopped in the doorway and just stared at him. 

"I find my willingness to follow you quite disturbing," Mulder said quietly, feeling his brow furrow in the beginnings of a frown. "I should..." 

Alex set aside his boots and smiled slightly. "Should what?" 

"Know better." Mulder shrugged. "But it doesn't seem to matter right now. I just want you. Scully, the Bureau, and our past all seem very far away. I guess I'm still having trouble with this _thing_ between us. It can't be right." 

Alex stood up and crossed the room. He stopped a couple of feet from Mulder, and said with apparent earnestness, "Why does it have to be? Why should it be right or wrong? It is what it is. Just let it be." 

"That sounds a little too simple. Like a cop-out." Mulder crossed his arms over his chest, and wondered why he'd brought this up _now_. 

"Okay, look at it this way... You and I lead very dangerous lives, right? How many times have you been in mortal danger? A gun to the head, a knife to the throat, an alien retro-virus in your veins... Mulder, you've been in more quarantines than anybody I've ever heard of—besides Scully, of course." 

Mulder tilted his head to acknowledge the truth of the statement, but impatience crept into his voice as he replied, "And your point would be...?" 

Alex shook his head, but when he spoke his eyes glowed with the fervor of a TV preacher. "My point is that you can have all these experiences—live on the very edge every day—and have one of two reactions. You can withdraw into yourself and live in fear, which would make your life really pathetic and put you in more danger than you already face. Or you can realize how fragile life is and wring every last drop of enjoyment out of it before it breaks." 

"So...I should just ignore the danger of being involved with you and take whatever you can give me between whatever schemes and scams you have going?" Mulder raised an eyebrow and waited for an answer, watching Alex with a new appreciation for his ability to explain away anything—any fear, any doubt, any feeling. 

"Well, when you put it that way... But essentially, that's what I'm saying." 

"What do I get out of this?" 

"You get _me_." Alex grinned as if this should obviously be enough for anyone. 

Although Mulder thought that having Alex should be plenty, he had to ask, "What are you going to do? Quit playing both sides and settle on the side of the angels?" _If there even is such a thing in this twisted wreckage of aliens, conspiracies, rebels, colonization, and betrayals..._

Alex laughed sharply, and cracked, "I've always been on the side of the angels, Mulder. Keeping myself _alive_ is the most righteous path I could be on. We've never really been too far apart in our philosophies about world domination and alien takeovers— mine just has a more personal bent. While you seem to have no sense of self-preservation at times, my own can be too strong causing me to lose sight of the big picture, although, granted, that doesn't happen very often. And your obsessions can blind you the same way. See? We could actually be good for each other. Because this thing is all _about_ the big picture. It's not about your sister, Scully's abduction, a missing alien fetus, dead Spenders, or my carrying an alien halfway around the world and getting locked in a fucking missile silo for my trouble— those are just small pieces of the puzzle." 

Dropping his gaze to the floor, Mulder silently turned over in his mind everything that Alex had just said. His body was urging him to believe, but that self-preservation that Alex didn't think he had was telling him to think about what he was doing. Bare feet moved into his field of vision and Mulder was struck by how vulnerable they looked. Maybe Alex was offering him more than he'd realized. Alex had said he "loved" him, but what did that mean? Mulder loved Scully, but he didn't want to have sex with her. And he'd had sex with people he hadn't loved. So what did it mean to Alex to say those words or, more accurately, to have them pulled from him in a moment of drunken weakness? Mulder couldn't be sure, and wondered if he'd ever be inspired to return those words—drunkenly or not. 

Gentle hands raised Mulder's face and warm lips settled over his, scattering his thoughts and replacing them with just one word— _more_. This is what had brought him here in the first place— Alex's kiss. And all that went along with it— his touch, his taste, his body, his passion, and his quicksilver personality. 

Mulder closed his eyes and opened his mouth— not to speak but to return the kiss, to give more... to take _more_. He sank into the kiss, hoping to find something there to let him know he was doing the right thing. 

After several breathless moments, Alex pulled back and whispered against his swollen lips, "Don't think, Fox. Just feel." 

"Mmm, I feel something..." Mulder murmured as he shifted into Alex's body, moving his thigh between Alex's. The other man was hard—whether again or still, Mulder didn't know, but his own cock was rising to meet its mate. He licked at Alex's lips and rubbed against his body, touching anywhere he could reach. 

After several moments of just kissing and rubbing against each other, Mulder was starting to feel a bit like a teenager afraid to go any further, but desperately wanting to do so. Alex must have felt his hesitation because he soon took control, removing Mulder's clothes and pushing him toward the bed. Mulder followed willingly yet again, but this time he was too preoccupied with the physical sensations to give much thought to emotional questions or doubts. 

When they were both naked and unbearably aroused, Alex lowered Mulder to the bed and whispered, "You can give me what you owe me later...when I'm done with you." 

Mulder was about to ask what he meant when Alex went down on him, and all powers of speech seemed to flee him. The wet heat engulfing his cock warmed him from the inside out, made him feel both excited and relaxed at the same time. Settling back into the soft surface of the bed, Mulder closed his eyes and just...felt. Alex's tongue fluttered around the ridge and over the head, making Mulder lift his hips in Alex's grasp for deeper contact. He sighed loudly when Alex obliged him, taking more of the length into his mouth and sucking, starting gently then slowly increasing the intensity until Mulder was sure his spine was dissolving and flowing out with the fluid rushing down Alex's throat. He shuddered as the pleasure continued its sweep through his body, first in surges, then in lapping waves. He raised heavy eyelids to look at Alex, but all he saw was the rippling muscles of the other man's back as he reached into the nearest nightstand and withdrew the supplies that Mulder had noticed during his earlier snooping. His paranoia breathed a silent sigh of relief when Alex turned holding only a condom and lube and not the gun. 

"I hope you don't mind, Fox-don't-call-me-that, but I thought I'd fuck you now." Alex spoke matter-of-factly with a slight smile, but his voice was pure sensual velvet rasping over Mulder's nerve endings. Watching as Alex quickly prepared himself, Mulder had the fleeting thought that confidence was a strong aphrodisiac. Alex knew what he wanted to do and he did it. And he did it well, Mulder thought, as cool slick fingers touching him in a very sensitive place made his skin burn and his stomach tighten. 

With his free hand, Alex wrapped Mulder's hands around the back of his thighs and told Mulder, "Pull your legs up and hold them. This way I can see you." Alex leaned forward and planted a deep wet kiss on Mulder's mouth then whispered against his lips, "I need to see you this time... this first time." 

Alex's soft voice washed over Mulder, darkly tingling and fuzzy in his ears. He shivered and moaned as the fingers slowly penetrated his body. He felt faint echoes of his earlier orgasm and wondered if he could get it up again so soon. Then Alex touched his prostate and Mulder didn't care anymore. He just closed his eyes and let Alex do whatever he wanted, as long as it felt this good he had no complaints— and it was very good. Alex played with him so much that by the time the agile fingers moved away, Mulder was half-hard and relaxed enough that Alex pushed the head of his cock in with barely a twinge of discomfort. 

"Are you all right?" Alex stopped and waited for Mulder to nod, then continued his invasion with a slow smooth glide. As his own cock grew harder and harder, Mulder was sure he was going to burst into flames. The combination of Alex thrusting inside him and the burning imprint of the strong fingers wrapping around his aching cock made Mulder shiver and cry out. He was swept away on another wave of sensation as Alex's cock bumped across his prostate with every stroke. 

The last working brain cell in Mulder's head made him realize that he was lying here taking what Alex gave him, without really giving anything back. His hands still gripped his own legs, and he forced himself to turn loose and reach for Alex instead. His fingertips slid across the damp silk of Alex's back, digging in, marking and claiming. Planting his feet on the bed he raised his hips into Alex's thrusts and was rewarded with a wide smile. Mulder licked his lips and tried to smile back, but his mouth trembled and his breath caught in his throat. He could feel another orgasm pressing down on him, crawling down his spine to burst from his body in a warm spurt over Alex's fingers and wild cry that sounded utterly alien to his ears. He was drowning and dying and desperately wanted to take Alex with him. And he did. 

Alex kept his eyes open and focused on Mulder's as his whole body stiffened, then jerked several times as he came inside Mulder. After a suspended moment in which time stood still and Mulder would have sworn he could feel the very blood in his veins, Alex pulled out and collapsed onto Mulder with a loud groan. Mulder let out a breathless grunt as the heavy weight settled on him, but he smiled just the same. 

Alex raised his head from Mulder's shoulder and said, "I'm squashing you." 

He started to move off, but Mulder wrapped his arms tight around him. "I'll let it slide this time. Just don't move until I can breathe on my own again." And it was true that their chests moved in perfect synch, with Alex exhaling as Mulder inhaled. 

For several minutes, they lay there and enjoyed the blissful peace of afterglow, but eventually the glow faded into a cooling sticky mess that started to itch. With a reluctant sigh, Alex moved off Mulder with kiss and a whispered, "Be right back." 

Mulder continued to lie quietly on the soft bed in the dimly lit room, waiting for regrets and doubts to assail him once more. He was still waiting when a sparkling clean Alex came back with a warm wet washcloth and a hand towel. He took the cloth and cleaned himself up as Alex went to the dresser and pulled out two fresh pairs of boxer-briefs. Mulder caught the grey pair that came flying at him, and slipped them on as he stood up. 

Watching each other across the room, the two men each waited for the other to speak first. When the silence became oppressive, Mulder finally said dryly, "Well. It's been a while since I've done _that_." 

"How long?" Alex laughed, but the curiosity in his eyes was serious. 

"Very long... embarrassingly long. So, what now?" 

Alex ignored the question and remarked, "It was good, wasn't it?" He didn't seem to be seeking confirmation or reassurance, just sharing his opinion. 

"Yeah, it... it was real good. We'll have to do it again sometime." 

Alex walked over to Mulder and took his hand. "There you go, Fox-don't-call-me-that. We _have_ to, because we can't seem to leave each other alone." 

Mulder nodded, but his doubts came back— not as strong as before, but there nonetheless. "How are we going to do this? We can't have much of a life together, because much as we might wish otherwise, we are not normal people." 

"We don't have to live together to be together. We carry a piece of each other around with us wherever we go. We have for a long time, but couldn't acknowledge it as such." Alex leaned in and kissed Mulder softly, laughing into his mouth when a loud grumble broke the silence. 

Mulder shrugged, smiled sheepishly, and stated the obvious, "I'm a...a little hungry." 

"So I gathered. Come into the kitchen and I'll feed you. You'll need your strength later." 

"You can cook?" Following closely, still holding Alex's hand, Mulder found the idea both strange and appealing. 

"Sure, a little. Don't you?" Alex seemed sincerely surprised 

"Well, I haven't starved yet. What are we having?" 

While Alex rattled off a list of possibilities, Mulder thought they seemed like any other couple discussing dinner. How... almost... normal. 

Not that they were a _couple_ exactly. Oh, who was he trying to kid? They were a couple. A couple of what he wasn't entirely sure. After due consideration, he decided it felt good. Maybe he'd put all the doubts and introspection on the back burner for a while and just go with it. Give normal a try... 

_...with Alex Krycek. Scully is going to kill me._

"Hey Alex, is there any vodka left? I think I'm going to need it." 

_"Gonna sleep with the stars  
And a slice of the moon   
Hanging right above my bed   
Gonna dream not of things that I've left behind   
But those I found instead down in Mary's land." _

—Down in Mary's Land, Mary-Chapin Carpenter 

* * *

Series Bits & Pieces #10   
Rating NC-17   
Date August 4, 1999   
Feedback Yes, please. Privately to [email removed] [If you read the rest of the series on an archive and feel moved to send comment, please use the Bellsouth addy not the other one listed.]   
Disclaimer Characters property of CC, 1013, Fox, etc. I borrow them out of love, and make no monetary profit out the things I make them do. I do get a cheap thrill, though.   
Notes This would not have been finished without suggestions, support, and general handholding from Zen—Thanks ever so much, sweetie! This would not be nearly so readable without the help of my lovely betas, Nicole and Mouse (who saved you from a really horrible ending ;)—[email removed]   
Thanks and hugs! Any mistakes are my own.   
Summary for archive After finding Alex's key in B&P 9, Mulder finds the door that goes with it. Events ensue.   
Warnings Alex still has two arms, but if you've read the rest you know that. ;-) Nothing else objectionable here, except maybe gratuitous references to others of my own stories.   
---


	11. Possibilities

Mulder awoke from a light dreamless sleep with a tongue in his ear. He lay still for a moment and wondered how he knew it was a tongue—it could conceivably be some _other_ soft, wet thing— and to whom it could be attached. If it were anyone other than Alex Krycek, this would get very weird, very fast. 

The tongue withdrew slowly and was replaced by a low husky voice. "Wake up, Snickerdoodle." 

So it _was_ Alex after all. Mulder held back his instinctive smile and pretended to still be asleep, just to see how far his sometime lover would go. 

Warm moist breath drifted across his neck, before a pair of surprisingly soft lips brushed the skin along his jaw. Alex smelled of peanuts, coffee, and exhaustion, as if he'd been on an airplane for many hours, and Mulder had to remind himself not to ask. Alex would tell him what he wanted Mulder to know, and whether it was true or not would be immaterial... to Alex anyway. 

There was also an overlying scent that Mulder amused himself by trying to place, while Alex continued to kiss his neck. It was faintly perfumey, but not like a floral or citrus fragrance, just a bit soft and waxy and... If a scent could be powdery, that's how Mulder would have described it. It reminded him vaguely of his mother, which made him uncomfortable, since there was also a set of sharp teeth worrying the skin just above his T-shirt collar. 

"I know you're awake, Mulder. I can hear your brain working." A brush of silk on Mulder's arm accompanied the husky voice in his ear, and he opened his eyes slowly... 

And let out a sound that was not a girly-squeal at all. It was a manly exclamation of surprise, Mulder told himself firmly. 

"What the— Uh, Alex?" Mulder rubbed his eyes, blinked hard several times, and took another look at his lover. 

"I needed a disguise to sneak in, so I went by my place first. They're watching your building again. I assume you've swept for bugs recently?" 

Mulder nodded absently, still staring and trying to think of something to say. Finally he said the first thing to come to mind. "I thought you'd look sluttier in drag." 

Alex smiled with burgundy slicked lips and smoothed back a tendril of long black hair. He moved from his unladylike crouch and sat in a chair, demurely crossing legs covered in heavy black tights. Plucking at the charcoal pinstriped wool skirt draped over his knees, he asked, "You've actually thought about it and formed an opinion?" 

"When I went to your apartment that first time, I, umm...I saw the red shoes in your closet." 

"Ah...you snooped and found these?" Alex lifted one foot high enough for Mulder to see over the coffee table. 

"Yeah, that would be them." Sitting upright and swinging his own sock-clad feet to the floor, Mulder took in the charcoal wool blazer and high-necked white silk blouse, shook his head, and smiled. "If not for the shoes, which give off a heavy fuck-me vibe, you could be a lawyer or a business person or... Scully." 

"That's not very funny, Fox-don't-call-me-that." But Alex looked more amused than insulted. "I was going more for the high-priced call girl who doesn't look like a hooker look, but I guess you couldn't afford one of those...so if anyone asks, tell them I'm your stockbroker." 

"A stockbroker who makes house calls? What great service." 

"I'm dedicated to customer satisfaction." With a flutter of eyelashes that hardly needed mascara, Alex flicked his tongue delicately across his lower lip. 

"Oh you are, are you? Well, why don't you stand up and walk across the room for me?" 

"Where do you want me to go?" Alex asked as he stood up. 

"Doesn't matter. Just walk to the dining room table and back. I want to see how you move in those spikes." 

Alex's eyes sparkled with mischief as he took a deep breath that pushed his chest out and sucked his stomach in. He turned like a contestant in a beauty pageant and took several steps, shorter than his natural stride, but oddly graceful just the same, into the dining room. He walked back across the living room, arms hanging almost motionless at his sides and hips swaying slightly. He did a slow pivot in front of Mulder's desk, giving the entranced man on the sofa a good view of the effect of high heels on an already stellar backside. 

Mulder let out the breath he hadn't meant to be holding and said, "Umm, could you do that again? Especially that turn at the end." Alex did so and this time when he made the pivot, Mulder remarked, "You must have spent a lot of time watching fashion models work. You've got the moves down." 

"Maybe I worked the runways of Paris and Milan for a season or two." 

"Did you?" Mulder asked, not believing it for a minute. 

"No, I'm just a quick study," Alex replied with a smirk. "Besides, we don't all have a collection like yours to entertain us when we're lonely." 

"Since you've been gone, I've been kinda lonely. Why don't you come over here and entertain me?" 

"Can I take off the drag first? Some of it itches." 

"Well, it _is_ pretty entertaining..." Mulder pretended to consider for a moment, before giving a regal wave of his hand toward the bathroom. "Go ahead. Make yourself comfortable." 

After Mulder watched Alex pick up a soft-side leather briefcase that was large enough to double as an overnight bag and leave the room, he got up and went to the kitchen. He took two bottles of iced tea from the refrigerator and went to the bathroom. 

Mulder pushed the half-closed door open with a perfunctory knock, and found Alex just straightening his jacket on a hanger. Otherwise, he was still fully dressed. He turned and took the offered bottle of tea with a raised eyebrow. "How'd you know?" 

"You smell like an airplane. Thought you might not want vodka on top of jetlag. If you have jetlag..." The statement trailed off questioningly, but Mulder had little hope that Alex would give away any clues to his recent whereabouts so easily. 

"Maybe, but that's all you need to know." Alex took a long drink from the bottle then set it on the sink. He glanced at Mulder, who was propped in the doorway, and asked, "So what have you been up to while I was gone?" 

While Mulder recounted a few of his recent cases he thought Alex would find interesting, he watched the disintegration of the classically elegant "woman" who had entered his apartment. The blouse went neatly onto a hanger hooked on the shower rod next to the jacket. As soon as the white padded bra, and the socks that had filled it, were dropped onto the back of the toilet, Alex turned his back to Mulder and said, "Scratch." 

Mulder raked his stubby nails over the plane of Alex's back, paying close attention to the middle section and his shoulders where the straps had been. As he scratched, he continued to talk and watch. 

The wig and its accoutrements came off next, exposing the nape of Alex's neck and his own mussed dark hair. Mulder was tempted to press his nose to the back of Alex's head and sniff him, just absorb his very essence. But he lost his chance when Alex stepped away with a muttered, "Thanks." 

Alex took off the skirt, shook out the wrinkles, then folded it over the hanger under the unbuttoned jacket, leaving him in nothing but black tights, underwear, and red high heeled pumps. This made such an intriguing picture, that Mulder had a hard time keeping his hands to himself, but it wasn't time for touching yet. He wasn't sure how he knew that, maybe some subtle signal Alex was sending out. Watching was permitted though, because Alex wasn't shy about his body since they'd had what Mulder privately referred to as The Scar Talk. The change in Alex's attitude hadn't been immediate or complete—he still occasionally got a strange, almost worried look on his face if Mulder caught him off-guard when he was undressed—but he was more open now than when they first got together some months ago. 

Well, as together as they seem to be... which wasn't much, really. They both spent most of their time racking up job-related frequent flyer miles. They also maintained separate residences, because they had agreed from the beginning that they weren't normal people who could just set up housekeeping and not draw the wrong kind of attention. 

On the rare occasions they were together, they didn't discuss their odd relationship or talk about their feelings. When they were together, they just _were_. Sometimes they had sex, and sometimes they did other things like watch sports or a movie on television. And one particularly memorable Saturday afternoon, Alex had taken Mulder to a private shooting range and tried to help him improve his aim and about a dozen other things that he thought Mulder was doing wrong. Finally, Alex had thrown up his hands, muttering that it was a miracle that Mulder had survived this long. Mulder had felt insulted and almost hurt, until Alex had taken him home and made love to him for hours until all was forgiven. 

Alex stepped out of the red shoes before rolling the tights over the sleek black briefs that Mulder'd never seen before, and down long hairy legs. Mulder wondered if he was disappointed that Alex hadn't shaved his legs, but decided the feeling was merely curiosity about what could have been. He did miss the shoes and the amazing effect they had on Alex's body, making his butt seem rounder and perkier, dramatizing the curves of his calves and ankles, and making him at least four inches taller. Maybe Mulder could get him to put the shoes on again later. 

As Alex took a jar from his bag and started smoothing white cream over his face, he met Mulder's gaze in the mirror with a puzzled crook of his brow. Mulder realized that he had stopped talking in the middle of the story he'd been telling and had been just staring at Alex in silence for a few minutes. Casting about for something to say, he glanced down the length of Alex's body and said, "You look okay." 

"Yeah well, you won't scare small children, I guess." 

"No, that's not— I mean, you're intact and unharmed. Nothing broken, nothing bruised." 

"Ah. Mmm hmm." Alex picked up a washcloth from the sink and started removing the cold cream and all traces of cosmetics from his face. "Have you eaten yet? I haven't had anything since early this morning..." 

"What sounds good? I don't have much in the kitchen, but there's always takeout. That Greek place three blocks over just started delivering last week." 

"That sounds good. Don't forget the kourabiedes. I'm going to take a quick shower..." He paused and rinsed the cloth with more attention than it deserved. "...Okay?" 

"Of course." Mulder stepped forward and dropped a reassuring kiss on Alex's shoulder, briefly nuzzling the back of his neck before he walked away. 

Alex never ceased to be a puzzle to him. Months ago, the man had thought nothing of breaking into Mulder's apartment whenever he felt like it—especially if Mulder was out of town. If he needed a place to get drunk, or recover from a beating, or just hide out for a while, he felt perfectly comfortable using Mulder's home, and then taunting him with the knowledge over the phone or by leaving things behind. But now that they were in a relationship that implied permission for use of the shower or telephone or whatever, Alex always asked, either outright or silently by his attitude. 

And yet conversely, Alex thought nothing of taking whatever liberties he wanted to with Mulder himself. Mulder was very glad of that fact when he hung up the phone after a frustratingly long wait, and went to make sure the blinds and curtains were closed tightly. Just as he stepped away from the windows, two strong arms wrapped around him from behind, and Alex nipped at his ear, asking eagerly, "What'd you get me?" 

Mulder bit back a laugh and lied, "I ordered that calamari thing you really like." 

Mulder could feel Alex's smile against the side of his neck right before he squeezed Mulder hard around the middle and growled into his ear, "You know, the last guy who tried to feed me squid ended up looking like one." 

"What?" Mulder didn't hold back the laugh this time. 

"I don't know, but obviously it didn't sound as scary and threatening as I'd intended." With a lingering kiss to Mulder's neck, Alex released him and stepped away. 

"I'll try to be scared next time." Mulder turned and saw that Alex had dressed in worn jeans and a heather grey pullover he'd left unbuttoned at the neck. His hair was still a little damp, and he was barefoot, a combination that made Mulder surprisingly hot. 

"If the sight of me in a skirt didn't frighten you, I'd think you're pretty unscareable." 

"No, you make a very passable woman." Mulder squinted and did his best Deliverance hillbilly voice, "You got a purty mouth on you, mister." 

"Not as 'purty' as yours, Snick—" 

Mulder cut off the silly nickname with a kiss, of which Alex quickly took control, making Mulder forget all about dinner, movies from the Seventies, and men in dresses. When he began to forget about breathing too, Mulder pulled back and gasped, "Welcome home." 

"I'm glad to be here," Alex whispered, nipping at his lower lip. "I kinda missed you. Just a little. At bedtime mostly." 

"Does that mean you'll stay the night?" Mulder sighed and tried to capture Alex's roving mouth with his. 

"I wouldn't have gone to this much trouble if I wasn't planning on it." Mulder moved his hands from Alex's biceps and wrapped his arms around his back. "Mmm...that's good." 

"Very good," Mulder murmured into Alex's open mouth, before slipping his tongue inside for a leisurely taste. They remained standing in Mulder's living room, just kissing and holding each other, getting reacquainted, and back in the groove of being together, until a knock at the door interrupted them. Mulder reluctantly extricated himself from Alex's arms, annoyed at the intrusion until he remembered that it was probably just the delivery person. 

For the next hour, which was almost distressing in its domesticity, Mulder and Alex unpacked the containers of food, filled their plates, and ate in front of the television. They watched a news program, with only a few random comments about the food, the state of the world, and how fuckable the entertainment reporter looked in that outfit, an opinion they both agreed on. 

When Mulder finally handed Alex the package of kourabiedes, Alex grinned widely and leaned against Mulder's side, rubbing his shoulder against Mulder's arm until he got the hint and put it around Alex's shoulders. Settling down to watch an action movie that was just coming on, Alex ate his cookies and snapped his teeth at Mulder when he tried to take one. 

Mulder almost moaned when Alex started licking the powdered sugar off his fingertips with slow teasing flicks of his tongue. "Alex..." 

"Oh, I guess I could share." He held up one of the butter cookies for Mulder to take a bite. Mulder took the cookie, chewed and swallowed quickly then grabbed Alex's hand and licked the sugar off. He took his time and did a thorough job of it, grinning when Alex moaned and pulled his hand away. 

Mulder was sure they'd move things to the bedroom now, but Alex turned his attention to the movie and ate another cookie. 

The hero of the film had more guns than muscles, but he was laying a pretty vicious beating on a low-level bad guy when Alex suddenly tilted his head to look at Mulder and asked, "What changed your mind?" 

"About what?" Mulder replied absently, wondering when the main villain was going to show up and give the hero a real opponent. 

"About me. You know, kissing instead of hitting..." 

"I don't know... The beginning was that night that you gave me the information and then kissed me on the cheek. I guess a...umm... a tender touch can hit harder than a fist sometimes." 

"Damn, Mulder, even your metaphors are violent. That's really all it took?" 

Mulder ignored the interruption and continued, "That certainly got my attention, but it wasn't like a lightening bolt that convinced me instantly of ... the possibilities of you. It was the subsequent phone calls and visits that really changed my mind about you. It was a gradual process from wanting to beat you to death to wanting to fuck you to death." 

"Lucky me." Alex smirked and rubbed his hand up Mulder's thigh to his crotch where he teased and petted Mulder to arousal. "So...would you like to get started on that project now?" 

Pretending he wasn't already getting hard under Alex's touch, Mulder glanced at his watch and said, "Sure, I've got some free time. I don't suppose you'd wear the shoes again...?" 

"No, but you're more than welcome to." Alex stood up and pulled Mulder to his feet. 

"Uhh, I don't think so, but I'll keep it in mind." 

"I just bet you will." He tugged Mulder toward the bedroom and offered, "Come on and see how close you can get tonight." 

"I'll try to stop before I actually kill you. I like having you around too much to do anything to change it." 

"You're not gonna get mushy, are you?" 

Mulder shuddered theatrically and said, "No. Heaven forbid I should mention feelings to Mr.-I-Gotta-Be-Drunk-To-Say-I-Love-You." 

"Hey! You said you wouldn't throw that up in my face." Alex stopped in his tracks and crossed his arms over his chest. He gave Mulder that obstinate look that said he'd stand there until dawn waiting for an apology or whatever it was he wanted. 

They were right outside the bedroom door now, and Mulder gazed longingly over Alex's shoulder at the bed with its rumpled covers and plump pillows. He was sincerely sorry he'd brought it up, but for a moment his own stubborn streak urged him to stand here and make Alex admit his feelings again so that Mulder would be free to express his own. 

He looked at the bed and then he looked back at Alex, whose eyes were narrowed and his mouth set. He looked back at the bed and sighed. 

"What do you want from me, Alex? I'm sorry I said anything. We don't have to mention it again. Now get your ass in that bedroom before I kick it and take you where you stand." 

Alex grinned slyly and licked his lips as he purred, "So...the tough guy returns, huh? Much better. Just for that, I may fuck you instead." 

Shaking his head, Mulder pushed Alex up against the doorframe with his body while he grabbed his wrists with his hands. "You are one perverse son of a bitch, you know that? Why do I put up with you?" 

Alex looked at him with innocently wide eyes, and spoke with the air of one stating the obvious. "Because you love me, Fox." He punctuated the words with a soft kiss to Mulder's lips. 

Mulder rolled his eyes and muttered, "Perverse... Yeah, that's the word for you. Sickeningly perverse." 

"It's better than some that I've heard." Alex shifted his hips against Mulder's, rubbing their denim-covered erections together. "Now are we gonna talk all night or what?" 

Mulder grinned and stepped back to release Alex. He stripped off his T-shirt and urged Alex into the bedroom with a firm hand on his back. "Or what. Haven't you heard that actions speak louder than words?" 

"That's why I keep coming back to you," replied Alex as he shut the door firmly behind them. 

The End 

* * *

Title: The Possibilities of You   
Author: Amy B.   
Fandom: X-Files   
Pairing: M/K   
Series: Bits & Pieces #11   
Rating: R   
Disclaimer: Not my property, just my story.   
Note: Originally published in the zine "Leather and Armani". It was written very quickly to make the deadline and suffers greatly for that speed. This is not the best I could have done, but hey, I got a free zine.;-)   
Thanks to Nicole and the ladies of Iron Craft for beta.   
As always, comments are welcome at [email removed]   
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